Haunted
by cestlaviesuckers
Summary: When Bella accepts a ride home from Edward Masen one rainy afternoon, she feels an instant attraction to him. A crush. But as they start dating, Bella soon learns he has a deadly dark side to him, one where he won't let her go, and will push aside all boundaries to be with her. What is he hiding? Obsessed Edward. Lemons. Inspired by the movie Fear.
1. Mr Masen

**I own nothing at all to do with Twilight. All things belonging to Twilight are the creation of their owner S. Meyer respectively. Just love the characters so much, especially Edward and Bella.**

**This story will contain a very controlling, possessive, vampire Edward... exactly how I like him, anyway. :) Rating M: for lemons, violence, and supernatural theme. Hope you will enjoy!**

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><p><span>HAUNTED<span>

_Watching me, wanting me, I can feel you pull me down. Fearing you, loving you, I won't let you pull me down. Hunting you, I can smell you-alive, Your heart pounding in my head. Saving me, raping me, Watching me._

_-Haunted, Evanescence_

_Chapter 1_

As the shrilling school bell signalled in class, I gathered my things and rushed out, following all the students who were arduously filing their way out of the school building. I lingered around in the parking lot, hoping to see my father's cruiser parked there amongst the other cars. Only it was nowhere to be seen.

I sighed loudly at myself in frustration as I peered up at the sky. The weather was turning from bad to worse by the minute as it always seemed to do in the gloomy state of Forks, Washington. I would have to settle on walking all the way home in the horrible weather then.

The wind came suddenly, robust and strong, like a tornado, making the dry rustling scatters of leaves on the pavement swirl around me. Clearly and predictably, it was about to rain. The sky slowly turned a coppery blue as I made my way down the road across from my school. I started to shiver as the biting wind cut straight through my clothes and tried to wrap my arms around myself for warmth and comfort. It was useless.

Water began to pour down from the sky. In an instance I was soaked.

My clothes were soaked; even my shoes were soaked. There was no shelter, nowhere to protect myself and hide out until the storm is over. What made matters worse, was that the books I was carrying tucked underneath one arm – Shakespeare, Bronte, and one of my school Biology text books – were completely drenched. As I continued to walk in the pouring rain, my school shoes, which are not waterproof, to my horror, sludged against the concrete and made squishing noises.

I was now regretting refusing my Dad's offer for a ride home after school. Where could I possibly go? There was no other option but to continue on walking in the rain until I reached my house. And my house was over three blocks away.

I mentally smacked myself against the forehead. _Of course, only I would be this unfortunate to be stuck walking home in the rain!_

I turned west across the street and as I did so someone beeped their horn at me.

I didn't recognize the car model, or the owner for that matter. But it was a nice modern car. Not to mention expensive-looking, with glossy silver exterior and a set of tinted windows. Whoever owned it had to be one lucky person!

Suddenly I was aware that the car had stopped moving.

There was something unnerving about it; the way it stopped all of a sudden as though waiting for me. It dawned on me that it only started rolling against the asphalt once I was walking beside it. The car continued to slow down to a leisurely pace to match my sluggish small strides.

The tires scratched loudly against the gravel as they rolled over the pavement, then before I knew it, the tinted window on my side was rolled halfway down, and a young man was peering at me through the fogged up glass.

With what little I could see inside the car, with the red velvet seats and all the clouds of smoke leaking out the gap through the open window from the cigarette dangling between the young man's lips, he reminded me of a sixties movie star almost. Like James Dean in "_Rebel Without A Cause",_ only well-off and rich.

I squinted through the drops of rain to catch clear sight of him as, by with his forefinger and middle finger, he removed the cigarette from his mouth.

He continued to stare at me, hardly paying any attention to the road in case he crashed his fancy-looking car. There was something very... _off_ about the way he stared at me; a calm possessiveness in his twinkling eyes that confounded me.

There was no denying that he was very handsome in an otherworldly way; He had acquired prominent cheekbones and a sharp jaw. His eyes were a mix of colour, a blue-green I noticed. There was something about him that was automatically fascinating to me, but I couldn't seem to place it.

And then he leaned over to flick his cigarette butt on the wet concrete. And then at last, he spoke: "I could offer you a ride if you like?"

His voice was like melting butter, something soft and compelling, all at the same time, which fell into your ears like a caress; It was something you could listen to for hours on end without finding yourself getting sick of the sound of it.

He continued gently after a moment, while I stared at him like some idiotic mute of a teenage girl.

"I know it's a little unorthodox, considering you've never met me before, and how utterly reckless it would be for you to just accept a ride into the unknown night beside a stranger in his car, but I'm thinking merely of the text books you're carrying. There is nothing worse than attending school the next morning with your books soggy and moist from the rain."

The corners of his mouth twitched into something of a satisfied smirk, and it occurred to me then, that with the way he said it, he was obviously speaking from experience.

I scrutinized his face carefully. I found it hard to believe that he was even still attending high school. He looked older than me by at least a year or two, so it didn't seem to make any sense.

Swallowing thickly, I found my voice. "But you don't look like a high schooler," I pointed out, and he laughed at me; The sound of his laughter resounded through my ears like a soulful melody of some sort.

He started tapping a hand graced with elegantly long fingers very distractingly against the steering wheel and shook his head.

"No, I finished my years of education two years ago," he explained evenly. _Well, that makes sense then._ "But when I was your age, I was still trying to get my license. I remember I had to endure walking home in the chilly, pouring rain, as you are doing right now..."

He turned his head in my direction; a far away and distant look in his eyes, as though he was seeing the whole event right before his very own eyes again.

"I absolutely hated it and I'm sure you do as well, which is why I am simply offering you a ride." He grinned at me widely, baring his teeth and I felt my heart rate pick up a notch. "I know that if I was ever in that situation again, I would have wanted someone generous enough to stop by and offer me a lift. Now why don't you just hop in?"

There was a clear note of frustration and impatience in his tone, which I couldn't imagine why.

I hesitated by the door of his car, thinking it through. My Mother had always stressed the importance on many occasions never to accept a lift from a stranger, no matter how charming and gorgeous they were.

"Well?" he prompted, darting me a funny look that I couldn't read.

_It couldn't hurt to accept a lift from this beautiful older man, could it? That way I would be undercover from the rain, and he was generous enough to offer. Oh, what the hell?_ I decided, tearing off my backpack as he leaned over in his seat to open the door for me. _What damage will it do if my Mother never finds out?_

The wind blew my dark hair into my eyes and I scowled, feeling my face going red with every moment that passed by between us, as I tossed my backpack down onto the floor underneath the seat. With a hand, I tried to quickly brush the strands of limp, wet, hair back behind my earlobes self-consciously, while I slid into the passenger seat and closed the door carefully shut.

"Feels much better to be out of the rain, doesn't it now?" The man said knowingly as I place my stacked collection of schoolbooks into my lap and folded my arms across my chest anxiously.

I sighed deeply through my nostrils with the goodness of being under shelter in the car, and he took that as a confirmation; He chuckled at me as he rounded slowly down another street. Every now and then, as I quickly gave him directions to my house and listened in silence to the rain tapping outside against the glass, my eyes would flit over to his face without my consent.

He was, without a doubt, the most handsome man I had ever had the pleasure of seeing. Thankfully, he didn't notice my observing of his face. He kept his eyes straight ahead to the road, as any experienced driver does.

Every single time he turned a corner smoothly by rotating the steering wheel, a tendril of his bronzed tousled hair would fall against his forehead and he would lift one hand off the steering wheel to brush it back against his scalp with his fingers. Every time he did it, I seemed to gape at him in a trance.

"Would you like a cigarette?" he asked after a moment of silence, one hand fingering the crumpled packet of Camels that were lying there on his dashboard.

I snorted. Yes, I actually _snorted_! "I don't smoke," I said awkwardly.

I saw him look from my direction quickly to the windshield again. His mouth was open in bewilderment and his eyes were narrowed. The look was quite adorable. "Ever?"

"Ever."

"Interesting."

"I mean, I'm only seventeen. It's kind of illegal for me," I pointed out, then quickly regretted it. I didn't know what possessed me to say that.

But I was frightened; frightened that it would ruin my chances with him in some way even though I probably didn't have a chance in the first place. The idea that he would ever be interested in a girl like me was laughable.

I peeked over at his face quickly to see if I had said the wrong thing. I couldn't read his expression. "So, you're seventeen?" he repeated, slowly. "Or are you already seventeen?"

"I'm already seventeen," I explained, nervously. "I'm eighteen in September."

"Interesting," he said again.

"I don't know what's interesting about it," I said confusedly, shrugging. "Why, how old are _you_?"

He was uncomfortable now. I could see the wariness in his eyes and the way his mouth tightened.

He shrugged. "Why should it matter? Age is merely a number," he mumbled, adopting my attitude of confusion. "Do you study English literature at school?" he asked brightly, changing the topic.

"Yes." I was surprised that he knew. "How'd you tell?"

"By your books. I studied them when I was around your age." His face twisted in guilt, and he shuddered for some reason. He shook his head. "God. I sound so old, don't I?"

"You don't look old..." I whispered, shrugging. "You look only a few years older than me," I added confidently. I was positive he was only a year or two older, but age seemed to be a touchy subject for him, I was quickly discovering. "I mean... is it okay to say you look kind of... nice?" I was rambling. I didn't even know why I was saying all of this; He probably thought I was an idiot.

He chuckled softly, and my cheeks reddened. "Nice?" His low voice cracked in disbelief. Then he shrugged, and I could tell he was pleased by his tone of voice, "I suppose nice is better than what I was expecting."

"And what _were _you expecting?" I blabbed out without thinking.

He looked uncomfortable again, and he cringed. "I was expecting something more along the lines of... _hot_ or cute. Or whatever else they say these days."

"I think you'll be pleased to know then that those words do not come up very often in my vocabulary," I said stiffly.

"Hmmm. Is that so?" His voice was teasingly disbelieving.

We fell into an awkward silence for a bit, where I pretended to find something outside interesting. Honestly, it was hard to see through the thick sheets of rain.

A question suddenly popped up inside my head. I was dying to know. "Do you do this often?" I asked, turning slightly in my seat to face him.

He frowned, thinking something through for a moment. "Do _what_ often exactly?"

I shrugged and said the first thing that came out of my mouth. "You know, pick a girl up and offer to give her a ride home?"

"Absolutely not..." he sighed deeply. He tilted his head over to look at me. "Is that honestly why you think I'm doing this?" He sounded a little offended, which wasn't my intention at all. "I just ride around whenever it rains, seeking out poor defenceless little girls so that I can offer them rides home?"

I cringed at how strange it sounded. "No, I didn't mean anything like that," I said fiercely, needing for him to understand and not get the wrong impression. "I just wondered if this was... something you did, just to be kind, or if there was another motive in mind?"

"There's always a motive for everything a person does," he muttered sarcastically. "A guy at a bar buys a woman a drink in order to seduce her...a man slaughters his own wife out of jealousy...a man offers a young girl a ride in order to- _what_?"

I felt so bad for offending him just then. He probably thought I was being ungrateful. _I felt like I wanted to die_.

But then he chuckled again. His mood seemed to have abruptly changed. "Only kidding, love," he said lightly.

I forced a smile as I met his eyes.

He was staring back at me in that moment, smirking a closed-mouth smile. It was overwhelming, the way his intense eyes seemed to pull me in. I felt as if his eyes could see straight through to my very soul. I had to look down at my wet books, distracting myself by wiping the small droplets of rain from them with my sleeves, to alleviate some of the pressure.

As we turned into my street and I pointed out my house, I found I didn't seem to want the ride to end with him. Even though we had only just met a few minutes ago, and despite the fact that I knew nothing about him – other than how handsome he was, of course – I found I wanted to get to know him some more. Really, _really_ get to know him personally; get to know the innermost workings of his mind. Every little vice... I realized then, with these silent declarations that it was almost creepy of me to feel such a way about a stranger. I shuddered as I released myself from the straining, frayed shoulder harness and bent down to retrieve my backpack.

Through the corner of my eye, I saw him delving through the breast pocket of his suit jacket.

As I pulled open the latch on the door, he caught my arm. "Wait," he declared smoothly with a pleading expression on his face. "I... I don't do this very often but then if I miss the chance now, it'll haunt me forever. Here."

With a flourish, he passed me a small business card, about the width of one of my fingers and I glanced down at it. It had markings on it in black ink. A name:

_Edward Masen. Financial Advisor. _

Followed underneath was a cell number. Did he expect me to call him? Did he have plans to see me again? I peeked up at his face blankly.

"Perhaps I lied when I said I didn't have any motive for offering you a ride. Perhaps we could go out together some time?" He was staring at my face expectantly. I hoped I'd masked my surprise and delight well in that instance. "Have some dinner and some iced-tea?"

I had to remember how to breathe. I tried my very hardest to keep the excitement from spilling out my words as I mumbled, "I... would like that very much, Mr. Masen."

He opened his mouth to say something, and then furrowed his brows in confusion. "Uh. What's your name, love?"

"Bella."

He darted me a look of disbelief, as I told him my name, for some reason, then I couldn't help but giggle as he started singing Italian at me through the window, even though we hardly knew each other. Also, I was giggling because his singing was beautifully off-key but he didn't seem to care. The gesture was probably nothing more than something out of politeness for him, but, to me, I found it incredibly sweet and caring and, most of all, romantic.

_It wasn't every day I had a man serenading me, after all!_

I stood out there in the rain, yet again, as I watched his car slide around the bend of my street and out of sight, clutching his business card to my chest all the while. I felt like dancing, and jumping, for joy in that instance.

He wanted to see me again!

Me? Boring, average _me_!

It wasn't every day a member of the opposite sex showed me attention, but he seemed to like me, despite me still being in high school. What could he possibly have seen in _me_? I wondered, as I skipped blissfully toward the front door of the house.

He seemed too good to be true.

And, it would turn out that with every date I would have with him, that he was exactly that:

_Too good to be true. _


	2. Proposal to Travel

All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, alerts and faves. All are greatly appreciated!**

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><p><em>Chapter 2<em>

As Rosalie, my best friend and I entered the parking lot, my eyes immediately scanned the place. I didn't know why or what I was looking for exactly. It was an unconscious thing really.

But then my stomach rolled. _His car._

It was parked outside the rusty school gates on the opposite side of the road, the exterior glinting faintly in the soft sunlight.

And then my eyes immediately fell on _him_. He was resting against the hood of his car, smoking a cigarette. Him smoking didn't bother me as much as I assumed it would. In a way it was fascinating watching him relieve his anxieties by smoking. I couldn't tell if he was actually waiting for _me_ or not but still...I was incredibly relieved to see him again. The sight of him left me breathless.

Now that he wasn't sitting in his car, I could see him fully. He was tall, lean and lanky. He was wearing a dark grey suit with a crisp white shirt underneath. The jacket had four buttons and he was wearing an emerald green tie. He looked all business-like and professional- though still fashionable - not to mention at the same time... gorgeous as hell!

"There he is," I whispered in wonder, knowing fair well that Rosalie was looking exactly where I was in that instance.

She whistled through her teeth at him, though of course he wouldn't have heard it. He was about half a mile away from us, thank god. "So, he's the mysterious Mr. Masen you've been telling me about all day?"

"Yes. I told you I wasn't exaggerating on how amazing he is."

I hadn't stopped talking about him all day, during my lunch break or in the cafeteria. I couldn't stop thinking about him either, wondering about when I would actually get the chance to see him again, or what I should say once I called. And now it seems he was here. I _would_ see him again and that knowledge sent a peculiar tingling turmoil to my stomach.

It felt so good to get it off my chest. Rosalie had been my best friend since seventh grade, so I knew and trusted that I could tell her about him. And when I did, I knew she would have heard the way I'd sighed when I said his name, or the way I'd go into explicit detail about what he was wearing. The way he spoke, how good his voice sounded...

Rosalie didn't say anything. But she was eyeing me with her icy blue eyes and her head was tilted back in bewilderment.

"You know what this means, don't you?" she then whispered in my ear knowingly.

"What?" I whispered back breathlessly as I continued to ogle him across the parking lot. He was focused on staring at something on the ground, his head bowed.

"If he's older, and you really like him as you say you do, he'll be expecting it sooner or later."

I glanced at her questioningly.

She sighed and gave me a pointed look that told me it was obvious. "Sex, Bella." She rolled her eyes at me. "He'll want you to give it up sooner or later."

I blushed. Why did she have to say it like that, so bluntly?

Besides it was very unlikely.

Very unlikely that he would even consider dating a younger girl like me, let alone have sexual relations.

She patted me on the shoulder and grinned cheekily. "And when it does happen, you'll love it!"

"Very funny, Rose."

"What? I'm serious!" She winked at the scowl on my face, then turned around and started walking backwards to her car.

"Rose, we're not even dating," I called out to her curtly. "I think that's the least of what's on his mind!"

"You keep telling yourself that," she laughed.

I sighed loudly and shook my head. This sudden wave of disbelief crept onto me. This all felt so surreal, as if I was dreaming. Surely he couldn't have been waiting for me. And surely it would never get that far that he'd be expecting something like sex from me...

She'd told me in precise detail at lunch in the cafeteria the numerous difficulties of dating an older guy after I'd recounted Mr. Masen giving me a ride home and the brief conversations that went on in his car- I'd also excitedly taken out the business card showcasing his cell number for proof. Rosalie had been more than happy to offer an ecstatic, empathetic ear. Plus she was more than a little enthusiastic to give me a few headers.

Rosalie was dating this boy, Emmett, who was four or five years older than her. They had been dating steadily for over one and a half years now. She said the hardest part wasn't dating a guy who was older and who had a little more experience with things. The hard part for her was convincing those around her, especially her parents that the age difference was no big deal and if anything, it made their relationship feel more real. She said she'd had amazing, educating conversations with him over the past year.

If anything, it made me feel more willing to jump into a relationship with an older guy... if that was even what Edward Masen wanted with me in the first place, of course.

Steadying my breathing, I started making my way over to him outside the lot.

As I slowly reached closer and closer, I saw that he was muttering something low to himself under his breath. I was sure my face was an obvious shade of crimson as he looked up and saw me approaching. He gave me what seemed to be a small, nervous smile as he flicked his cigarette onto the asphalt. It would seem he was cautious about smoking in front of me.

"Hello," I said nervously as he met me halfway. He was taller than I realized; my head was barely up to his shoulder.

"Bella." My name seemed to roll effortlessly off his tongue. His voice was gentle and tinged with a small amount of relief, I noticed. "How are you?"

"Good," I mumbled enthusiastically. Mr. Banner, my biology teacher, was watching the pair of us from inside the parking lot, I discovered then as I quickly glanced behind my shoulder. I could tell he was wondering if he should intervene on us or not. It was probably just as much as a surprise to him as it was to me that this beautiful kind-of-stranger was here for me. "How are, um, you?"

"I'm excellent, thank you," he said, smiling down at me warmly.

And he looked excellent too, though a little tired. The dim sunlight that covered his handsome face illuminated the faint purple lines raking underneath his eyelids and his skin looked paler than I remembered it had in his car. He looked as though he could have definitely benefited from an extra hour of sleep or two. He glanced over my shoulder at Mr. Banner, who was still watching us warily with a grim expression, then surprisingly he snickered. It was a very thrilling, heart-warming sound.

"What's so funny?"

"Your teacher feels I'm acting very suspicious," he explained quietly. "He hasn't seen me with you before so naturally he is wondering whether I am bothering you or not. He suspects I'm quite possibly corrupting the mind of the innocent." After he said this little detail, he winked at me.

Yes, _winked_.

I think my stomach just about erupted into butterflies.

"Well, I didn't even know that you would be here," I mumbled frostily. "I didn't even call you after you gave me your business card."

The guilt swelled deep inside of me over that; I didn't know why I was so hesitant to call and accept his offer on going out together. I hoped he didn't assume the reason I didn't call straight away was because I wasn't interested. I just didn't want to appear too desperate, and all that.

"Did I do the wrong thing in coming here assuming you'd like another ride home?" He was suddenly wary for some reason. He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. "Were you not planning to see me again? Was that why you didn't call me afterwards?"

I was startled; he seemed genuinely panicked over me not calling him as soon as I'd stepped a foot into my house after he gave me the lift home. He stared down at his work shoes, his lips pressed into a tight thin line.

"I would have called you anyway once I had gotten around to it," I whispered reassuringly, shaking my head. "I just had a few assignments I had to get started on. I_ did_ want to see you again, of course!"

He seemed relieved then. He smiled widely and peered up at me through dark, thick eyelashes. "Well, then. Let me get the door for you." He stepped carefully around me and pulled the passenger side of the door open fully wide.

I sat in slowly and carefully, not wanting to fall flat onto my face and embarrass myself. As he hopped in and we were both buckling the seat belts up, silence reigned over. But it was a comfortable silence thankfully. It didn't feel embarrassing or awkward at all. It was nice. There were so many things I wanted to ask him, mainly about what he likes, his pastimes, etc. But all the questions were whizzing by fast and restlessly in my mind. It was hard to pick just one.

"Can I ask you some questions?" I asked him uncertainly as he started the car; I didn't want him to feel as if I was interrogating him. "It's just I know nothing about you, other than you work as a financial advisor. And I _would _like to know more about you!"

He seemed happy by my honesty. He grinned at me and my heart spluttered inside against my ribcage. "You may ask me anything, but some things may be off limits," he said warningly, raising an eyebrow. "It's nothing personal. It's not that I feel I can't trust you. Some things are just better kept in the dark."

_Oh_. My heart sank a little at that. I found it peculiar how I was suddenly so eager and madly interested in knowing practically _everything _about him. But then, maybe that's attraction for you.

"Okay," I agreed reluctantly. Now I had to figure out what I could ask him. "How old are you really?" I tried my very hardest not to get my hopes up, but this was sort of bugging me. I needed to know!

He let out a small laugh. "As I said before, this is one of those things that are best kept in the dark."

I groaned in frustration. "Then what_ can_ I ask you?"

"Anything." He made a face and then quickly backtracked on that. "_Anything_, except questions regarding my age."

I fell silent after that. _Darn it_. The only thing I desperately wanted answered was one of the things I couldn't get solved. I just didn't understand why age was such a touchy subject to him. But then, maybe that was just one of the many oddities about males; they all felt cautious about revealing their age. But something inside told me it was something so much more than just a male thing.

"What are you thinking about in that young mind of yours?" he asked curiously when I didn't speak for several minutes.

I looked over into his twinkling green eyes and, unable to help myself, I blurted out the truth.

"I'm still wondering why you won't tell me how old you are."

He sighed deeply, his jaw tightening, but he managed to keep the small smile there with some effort.

"Are you having any luck with that?" he asked in an off-handed tone, combing a hand through his hair while he turned a tight corner with the other.

My eyes narrowed. "Not too much. Why are you so touchy with telling me?"

He chuckled gently and shrugged. "It's better this way, believe me. It keeps things a lot more... interesting in a sense."

I sighed. "Well, you really know how to keep a girl up all night wondering such things."

Once again, he looked uncomfortable as he had before in the car. He groaned. "I kept you up late last night pondering on that?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes."

"And you _really_ want to know that badly?"

"Yes."

He sighed resignedly. And it was then that I knew I was winning. "All right. I'm twenty three... technically. But don't say I didn't warn you that this is one of those things best kept in the dark."

"Technically?" I was confused. "Why technically? What's that supposed to mean exactly?"

"It means that I've already answered this question with you so now it's time for you to drop it and ask me something else," he spat out in frustration, his eyes narrowed.

I was taken aback by his sudden anger. Did he feel that I was meddling into his business? "Sorry," I whispered honestly. "I didn't know it would hit such a raw nerve."

"It's not that at all." He turned his head to give me an apologetic smile. "I'm just trying to protect you from the horrible truth. It's better if you don't know the specifics. Trust me." His voice was urgent and pleading. And I surrendered easily to it.

"What kind of music do you like then?"

His eyes brightened over where the conversation was heading. "Anything classical. You?"

I thought my answer through for a minute. "Any music, I'm not particularly fussed."

"All right, my turn." He grinned at me mischievously and I felt the butterflies make their return. "Siblings?"

"No."

"Exactly like me. I'm an only child," he told me proudly. "And very stubborn. I don't like to share, and refuse to." I laughed quietly at him; I couldn't seem to help it. "And that's not only subject to toys. It goes for everything; cars, showers, women..."

My heart seemed to stop for one single second over the women part. "_Women_?" I repeated, intrigued.

"Yes, _especially_ women. I'm a one-woman for eternity kind of man."

Now I was even more curious. "How many women have there been in your life?"

He looked very self-conscious all of a sudden, grimacing. "Not many," he muttered. I couldn't tell if he was purposely lying or not. I mean, he was possibly the most handsome man I had ever seen. Surely a lot of girls would have gone nuts over him. "Some women have expressed their dislike over my behaviour. It was a little too much for them." He looked acutely embarrassed even to admit it.

"What behaviour?"

He shrugged and exhaled loudly. "My lack of sharing... my stubbornness and refusal to see all sides in an argument..." I studied his face as he was telling me this and could tell he was being nothing but completely sincere. "Plus, I can be a little ostentatious when it comes to how I handle my money."

_Damn this man_. He was too fascinating for his own good. Or maybe I was more than a little too desperate for answers. "Ostentatious in what way?"

"I like to take a couple of years off work from time to time," he explained, glancing over at me very seriously. "I like to travel. I like fishing in Alaska... I love skiing on Mount Everest." I tried to suppress the gasp at his words. How amazing! I've always wanted to travel to different, exotic places. Ever since I was a little girl. My interest in him increased a multitude higher. "I'm not known to spend my money wisely- or as wisely as I should." He made a disgusted noise from the back of his throat and cringed at something. "Hell, I ought to settle down and get married. Or so my parents say on a regular basis..."

"But there's nothing wrong with seeing the world and exploring," I allowed, only because that prospect was so fascinating to me.

"You're right," he agreed, nodding slowly. "There is nothing wrong about it at all. But it can get a little repetitive and a hell of a lot lonely doing it by yourself." There was some kind of implication in his smooth voice, some hidden meaning that I wasn't grasping. "It would seem so much more exciting and meaningful if there was someone there to share the experience with."

I considered silently and realized then that he was probably right. It would have been more wonderful experiencing the marvellous sights unfolding before you with another person.

I peered out the window and suddenly realized we had already reached my house. Yet again, my stomach sank. It seemed every chance I had to talk to him and learn more about him it was never enough. Time seemed to fly by so quickly... He cut the engine across the road from my house and turned in his seat to face me.

"You're a very beautiful girl, Bella." It came out as a sigh and I felt my heart flutter. "But the world's not as beautiful when you're not in it."

I felt the heat rising up to my face at his words. I didn't quite understand the meaning of it. But then I felt now that he definitely felt what I felt before. He must be interested in me as I was so deeply with him. I winced. These feelings were so foreign to me, not to mention ridiculous. I didn't even know him- he was still a stranger to me in so many ways- yet I felt I already knew him. Somehow I felt safer around him. I felt at home, as though I could truly be myself around him.

I forced myself to look up at him and the confusion on his face I was certain mirrored my own at his words. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, it's just... why are you saying this?" I demanded, although it didn't seem very forceful. My voice cracked with emotion. "Why did you meet me after school? Just so that you could give me another ride home?"

"I told you already. I thought you knew..." he said, not seeming to understand.

"I understand that, I understand you said you weren't sure if you should wait for me to call..." I took a deep breath. "I just don't understand why you are telling me about... how lonely it is?"

He sighed as understanding slowly came onto his face. "I'm telling you that because I'm giving you the opportunity of travelling with me, Bella. I want you to travel the world with me." He took my hand and his fingers were surprisingly icy and cold, but it felt good. I would have liked him to keep on touching me and never stop. "So, I never offered you a ride yesterday simply because I felt sorry for you or because you looked awfully cold. It was probably silly of me but I felt attracted to you." My cheeks felt as if they were burning at his gentle, sweet words. "You looked like the type of girl who would benefit from experiencing everything the world has to offer her and I want to be the guy who gives you that..."

He stroked the back of my hand with the pad of his thumb as I thought his offer through. I still couldn't seem to wrap my head around it however; it felt surreal. Unreal. I didn't know him enough to do anything of such extremes with him- not that I didn't trust him already. There was no doubting my attraction to him, but everything just made me feel so unsure.

"I... I don't know..." I muttered helplessly. It was too fast.

His eyes darkened at my words and he frowned. "It's fine, Bella," he said quickly, squeezing my hand, warm in contrast to his, then he intertwined our fingers together. His fingers were so much longer than mine, the nail beds eerily purple tinged that it distracted me momentarily. "You don't have to decide today or tonight for that matter. As far as I'm concerned, you can wait as long as your heart desires. The option will always be open to you and_ only_ you."

It was hard to concentrate when he was holding my hand like that. "Ugh," I croaked out, inspecting our hands closely. "Your hands are so cold. _Why_?" He let go of my hand hurriedly, but I caught his, instead rubbing his between mine to cause warmth and friction. It didn't seem to help much; his hand, especially the palms, remained bluish-tinged.

He chuckled underneath his breath. "Bad circulation ever since I was a little boy, I guess," he shrugged and I looked up to find him grinning down at me, something there in his glinting eyes. "I have a mild case of Raynaud's Disease, but it's not life-threatening."

"Oh," I nodded concernedly then let his hand slip free.

He was staring into my eyes, his dark and penetrating. I swallowed nervously. I began to wonder if he was about to kiss me. Lord knows I wanted him to. Unconsciously, I took my bottom lip into my mouth while staring down at his. He seemed to notice, because he raised a hand slowly to wipe his thumb across my lip. His touch was so soft and wary, but my lips tingled from the cool, light contact.

"I want to try something, but I'm sure it's nothing new to you."

"Kiss me." It came out more as a question than a needy cry for it.

He chuckled quietly and his breath fanned across my face. He smelt minty and a wintry cool. I wanted to taste him. I wanted him to taste _me_...

He lifted two hands to hold each side of my face startlingly gentle. And then, as if granting me my wish, he pressed his mouth to mine. It was tender and soft yet firm and solid at the same time. And cold, so cold I felt my whole body- especially my arms - break out into gooseflesh. As I parted my lips and gently took his bottom lip into my mouth, he made the most exquisite sound: a deep throaty groan of pleasure from the very back of his throat. I reached up with my hands to stroke the nape of his neck and knotted my fingers through the soft, silky hair there. His mouth became more urgent then, opening and sliding his tongue into mine.

I could taste him now. I could taste every part of him. It was, without a doubt, the best kiss I'd ever experienced and I wasn't planning on stopping it anytime soon. His hands moved from my face and I felt it as he placed them on each of my shoulders, straining against me.

"Please, stop." He groaned as he pulled away from my mouth and I greedily dived in for more. "Not yet," he panted sternly. "Just give me a minute to work on it." He was panting and licked his lips as he covered his face with his hands. He rubbed his eyes with his fists and then when he removed them, he looked as though he was in some sort of unbearable pain.

It hurt me to see him in that way. "What's wrong?" I asked urgently, leaning forward. He ducked his head further away from me and it hurt me inside, I couldn't lie. "What did I do?"

"No, please. You didn't do anything." He sighed, peering over at me desperately. "It's me. All me. I want to kiss you all night long if I could, but I know I can't."

"Who's stopping you?" I asked confusedly, trying to catch my breath. I so could kiss him all night!

"Me," he muttered dryly. "_I'm_ what's stopping me. I can't go too far with you."

I felt the disappointment set in. "But why not?"

"Because I just can't. It'll be the worst thing I ever do." He suddenly looked disgusted with himself at the mere thought.

I felt my face go hot from the rejection. He didn't want anything physical from me? Did he not find me attractive enough then?

Then again, who could blame him? I realized. And I felt my eyes brim over with hot tears. There was no way I was letting myself cry in front of him. He'd probably think it was childish or immature of me.

"Thanks for the ride home," I spluttered, then without a further word or glance at him, I flung open his car door and hopped out. I didn't wait for him to drive off this time. Instead, I bolted straight up to the house, up the staircase, then threw myself headfirst against my pillow on my bed. I felt so wretched inside and so embarrassed.

_Mostly embarrassed._


	3. First Date Part I

I own nothing to do with Twilight. S.M does.

**Thank you all so much for reviewing, alerting, and favoriting this story. I appreciate it so much! Hope you enjoy this chapter. If not, please don't hesitate to tell me why. I was thinking of writing an Edwardpov but Im probably not very good at it? Still, would you like an Epov? Thanks so much for your reviews, they were all so nice :-)**

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><p><em>Chapter 3<em>

I curled up underneath the warm sheets, keeping my eyes tightly shut. I felt hot tears leaking out from my eyes. I wanted more than anything to sleep-to forget these horrible feelings over what had just happened in Edward Masen's car- but it seemed my mind had other plans. I felt his absence immediately and it bugged me like crazy. I'd never felt this way before... ever. And I'd had my fair share of dating boys. But with Edward, it was so much more different. Not because he was older, but because I felt I really, really liked him. No boy had ever affected me in the way that he had.

I would have liked nothing more than for him to have kissed me senseless in his car.

But he didn't want that. He didn't want _me_ in that way.

_He had pushed me away_.

Throughout the sinking feelings of rejection, I still felt the remnants of his kiss on my mouth. I didn't know what it was about him that made me feel this way. But he was instantly fascinating to me and that fascination pulled me to him like a magnet. The way he coolly dodged questions, while leaving me wildly irritated inside, only just seemed to make me feel all the more attracted and interested in knowing him.

I didn't want to give up on him so easily, even if I _had_ messed up things tonight. There were so many things that I still wanted to do, so many things I still wanted to learn...

I decided then that I knew what I was going to do. Rolling onto my side, I searched blindly for my cell phone on my bedside table. Once I found it, I flipped it open and decided to send him a text message. Even if now was the inappropriate time, even if he decided he didn't want to see me ever again after what happened tonight, I would try to resolve this like a mature human being.

With my thumbs, I punched in the message:

_Hello, it's Bella. I'm sorry if I made things hard for you tonight. I'm so stupid.  
>Feel free to text me and let me know if you want to hang out in person again.<br>If not, I understand._

With a nerve-wracking sigh, I scrolled through my contacts until I found his name. I had submitted it into my contacts as soon as he'd given me his business card two nights ago. I pressed _send _then sunk back down into my soft pillows. I could only hope that he wouldn't get annoyed with me texting him after what happened tonight.

I never realized just how hard it was to wait for a reply. I could feel my pulse quickening in anticipation over the moment I would receive a jolt of gentle vibration signalling his reply. But three minutes went passed and still... nothing.

I lay down with my back against the mattress and stared up at the ceiling, letting the darkness surrounding me swallow me.

Several more minutes went by and I was starting to regret sending him the text. What if he didn't want to hear from me? What if this only made him assume that I was this clingy teenage girl desperate for him? I shuddered at the thought.

Suddenly my phone vibrated in my hand. I sat up in a hurry, crossing my legs, the springs on the bed squeaking underneath me with the quick movement. I looked at the illuminated screen, just to make sure. And it _was_ him. I took a deep gulp of air before flinging my phone open and reading his message:

_Bella. Please don't beat yourself up over tonight, it was my fault. I should have explained to you more clearly what happened. I didn't think you'd take the blame. It's not yours to take. I freaked out. It has been a long time since I've kissed a girl, too long. This is all very new to me and I've never really adapted to change all that well. But that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it because I did.  
>I'm glad you finally sent me a text. Hope I didn't screw things up. -E<em>

I had to bury my face into one of my pillows to hide the fact that I was probably grinning like some crazy person over his message. It meant a lot from me to hear that I didn't do anything wrong. Well, that I didn't do _some_ things wrong. I didn't want to seem too quick and overeager with my reply, so I waited several moments, rereading his text before replying:

_Well, I'm glad to hear that. And no, I thought I was the one who was screwing things up here. I thought you'd never want to talk to me ever again!_

After hitting send, I cringed. Did that sound too desperate? Within hardly a minute though, he was already texting me back. I was surprised by how quick he was. Usually it took me forever to go through the message again to make sure I hadn't spelled something incorrectly, which would have been embarrassing for me to do in front of him.

_That's impossible. There is nothing you could ever do that could possibly keep me away. But with me, on the other hand, I could so easily frighten you away with the things I am capable of doing to you.-E_

I couldn't breathe after reading through his text message. I read it over and over again, trying to find sense in it. Was he flirting with me?

Well, two could play at this game, I decided then, sitting up straighter with a big cheesy grin on my face. I was sure my face was as red as a beetroot as I wrote back:

_What kind of things? Do tell, Mr. Masen. I'm intrigued. ;)_

I gritted my teeth, waiting patiently for his reply. I hoped I hadn't put my mouth into it, or failed miserably with trying to appear seductive in text-talk.

_Very tempting but I'm afraid that will have to wait until a later date. How about I take you out to dinner, feed you up, and ravish you tomorrow night instead? -E_

I was officially breathless, with all the blood left in my body now having rushed up to my face, over him asking me out for dinner tomorrow night. So I sat there, rereading his text carefully, waiting for the breath to find me again. I must have still been breathing though, however shallow it may be, because I hadn't passed out from the shock and surprise. Yet.

Once I could finally wrap my head around what he had written, I had to admit I was unapologetically happy about it. My face broke out into a huge smile as I replied:

_Yes, I would love that- having the chance to see you again and for us to go out to dinner together. You know where to pick me up. If not, just text me and I'll give you the proper address._

And then our first date was settled, just like that.

* * *

><p>I realized I had to text Rosalie. I had to tell her what was happening tonight. I had to tell her I was going out to dinner with the very handsome Edward Masen! I would have to remember to text her as soon as class was over once I returned to my locker!<p>

_Oh my God._ There were _so_ many things I had to do in preparation for tonight if I wanted to look my best and impress him...

"Miss. Swan, Miss. Swan, _Bella Swan_!"

I snapped out of it, looking up sheepishly at Mr. Banner and then suddenly it clicked. I was in Biology, almost having a panic attack for the whole class to see.

"Miss. Swan, could you _at least_ try to contain your daydreams until after class?"

The entire class of students erupted into a shimmer of hysterical laughter around me. I felt so ashamed then for spacing out. But mostly I felt pissed off at Mr. Banner for singling me out in class and embarrassing me in that way.

I shook my head and peered outside the window. It was actually a nice day, which was quite rare for Forks. The sun was peeking faintly out of a few dark grey clouds. I knew it was bound to rain today sooner or later. I just hoped it wouldn't be tonight.

It was just after two-thirty that I was finding myself itching to head home. My English teacher, Mrs. Goff, had cornered me halfway through the lesson, asking if I was all right.

_Yes, I am more than all right! I am just going on a date with the most beautiful man tonight!_

But I couldn't tell her that, of course. Instead I tried to look innocent and nodded. Yes, I am fine. Yes, I can focus and get through this last half an hour without thinking about tonight. The end of the lesson couldn't have come at a slower pace however.

The moment I burst through the front door and hung my backpack up on the rack, my cell phone was ringing. I didn't need to check caller I.D to see who it was calling. I already knew who it was; Rose.

"_Hey Bella. I just got your text! Big date tonight, huh?"_

"Yes. Oh my God! I'm so freaking nervous that I can't even think straight!"

"_Oh, that's so cute. Just relax, okay," _she said in a soothing voice. _"He clearly likes you too if he's already asking you out on a dinner date!"_

"You think so?" I asked uncertainly, as I carried the bundle of my freshly ironed clothes that I had picked out this morning to wear on my date with Edward, into the bathroom.

"_Yes!" _There were some low murmurings going on in the background, a deep male's voice calling out to her. It was obviously her boyfriend, Emmett. She must be staying over at his apartment for the night. _"Listen, Bella. I have to go, but I know you'll be great!" _The clatter of china and silverware rattling in the background._ "Remember to just be yourself, all right?"_

Plonking down the toilet seat, I set tonight's clothes carefully on there, catching sight of myself in the small mirror above the basin. "Yeah, I guess so." I really looked a mess, but I knew I'd feel better once I'd had a shower and carefully swiped on a dab of lip gloss and some mascara.

We continued talking for a few minutes until Emmett was calling out loudly to her. She groaned out loud in frustration and said that she had to help him set up the take-out on plates before hanging up. I really did feel better after talking to her; she said all the encouraging things a best friend was meant to say for support.

I took a quick shower, then slipped on my T-shirt- the dressiest one I could find, a light grey V-neck with gold sequins imprinted on the side- and my favourite pair of black skinny leg jeans. While I knew that what I was wearing was nothing special to say the least, to me it was always more about comfort over style.

I was torn on deciding whether to wear high-heels or not; I only had one pair, cheap heels that were a shimmery blue that I'd only worn once to a party a year ago. But I couldn't walk in them to save my life. I knew if I did end up wearing them tonight, I'd have to risk tripping and falling flat on my face, which I was positive was not a good look in front of the guy you were trying to impress. Sparing myself the embarrassment, I chose my good, old trusty Converse sneakers instead. I knew I would look underdressed in comparison to Edward.

If the clothes I was wearing were understated, I decided to do my make-up a little more differently. I tried to do something a little bolder with my eyes, pencilling in the rims and top lids with kohl eyeliner. My hand was trembling so much that I almost poked my eyes out, I swear.

Tossing the dirty towel I'd just used into the washing basket, I made my way down the hallway and into the kitchen. Charlie, my father, was sitting at the small two-seat mahogany dining table, a newspaper splayed out between his elbows and a can of beer clutched in hand. Having Charlie home made me feel all the more nervous because it would mean he would have to greet Edward at the door-and most likely make things more difficult than they already had to be.

"Did you already make yourself dinner tonight, dad?"

He was too immersed in reading an article in the paper, but he managed a nod and a grunt with some effort.

I sighed and closed my eyes, relieved. This was good. It meant my father could take care of himself for a few hours without me, watching the highlights of this season's ballgame, not exert himself in excess of an already busy day at work.

"Remember, Dad; I'll be home before eleven," I reminded him. He was always so strict about my eleven p.m curfew. "I will be safe and you don't need to worry. Edward will be driving me home so I don't need any money for a taxi."

He grunted at me again, still preoccupied.

All this waiting around was starting to make me feel sick inside. To kill the time, I decided to clean up the kitchen a little bit, throwing the small remnants of Charlie's dinner into the trash and rinsing his plate under the faucet. Then I rummaged around in the fridge, making sure Charlie had enough snacks to tie him over for the evening. Peanut butter and jelly, check. A full carton of beer, _check_.

Straightening up and closing the fridge, I caught sight of the old black and white photograph my father had stuck on there with a magnet years ago. It was always there in the same spot, dusty and never moved. It was a photograph of Charlie and my mom Renee, during the early years of their marriage. I was also in the photo but thankfully, you couldn't see me; I was the little bundle wrapped tightly in the blanket that my father was holding protectively in his arms.

I peeked over my shoulder surreptitiously at Charlie, then at the photograph again. _Funny_. Hmmm. He still looked the same then as he did now only there was excitement and happiness in his large dark eyes which had clearly dissapeared as he had gotten older. My mom still looked the same, only with laugh-lines curling at the edges of her eyes and her dark brown wavy hair was shorter now than it was back then. She still looked as youthful as she did then in the photo.

Sometimes I'd idly wonder why things didn't work out between Charlie and her. But sometimes it was easier to just accept things as they were now. We were still a happy, close family-in a way. My mom was now living with her new younger boyfriend in Florida and she rarely called. While I missed hearing her voice and wild, high-pitched laugh, I didn't feel any resentment over her abandonment at all.

"When was this picture taken?" I asked Charlie over my shoulder, realizing I'd never really asked about it before.

Charlie didn't have to look up from the paper; he already knew what photo I was hinting at. "I think you were seven months old when that picture was taken, Bells," he answered with a small smile. Dimples. Charlie still had those dimples. "You were so tiny I was always scared I was gonna drop you on your head whenever I held you..."

"Nice," I mumbled briskly.

"There was one time you fell, though, when you were around four," he admitted in an apologetic voice. "Renee and I took you to the park while we were staying at Seattle for the weekend and I forgot I'd left you there playing on the swings. Next thing we knew you were diving headfirst into the dirt and you kept on crying, and crying. Your hands were so tiny you couldn't even hold onto the swing properly!"

I winced, even though I couldn't remember that incident. The only memories I had of when Renee and Charlie were still married started when I was around six. Everything earlier than that, the memories were a bit vague and dim.

"Really? I don't think I remember that."

"Of course you don't," he nodded, then laughed. "You fell on your head and now look at you, clumsy as ever!"

"Well, you made me this way, Dad," I shot back, suddenly annoyed. He guffawed even louder, leaning back in his chair.

"Did not."

"Did too," I spat out, exasperated. "I inherited your inelegance and ungainliness!"

"Sure you did, kiddo."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Then I remembered. _Shoot._ My hair!

"Did I tell you that Edward Masen is a financial advisor?" I asked urgently, trying frantically to flatten my hair down with my fingertips.

"'Bout a hundred times, Bells."

"Oh."

After several minutes, I finally fixed up my hair, trying to tease the ends a little with my fingers. I decided to leave my hair out again for the night, but then was starting to regret it instantly as the curls below my shoulders seemed to go haywire.

"Dad, did I mention that Edward was..."

"...a financial advisor and a little older. Yes, hon, I think I get it," Charlie grumbled, finishing off, looking up from his newspaper for the first time. He looked a little stunned at my get-up. "Jesus, you really like the kid. Don't you?"

_Yes, I really do, though like is a bit of an understatement, dad!_

I couldn't say that though. Maybe to my mom I would have, but with Charlie it would have only caused him an unnecessary panic attack.

"I mentioned to be nice to him, eh?"

I'm not quite sure why I was feeling so anxious about Edward and Charlie being in the same room for a few minutes. But with my last date, which was over a year ago, Charlie almost had a stroke with the boy I was going out to the movies with. But rightly so, I suppose. While I had spent the evening trying to look good for him, he had shown up in a ratty, old looking sweater with holes at the sleeves and greasy jeans. What made it all the more insufferable was how he treated Charlie; he had barely said a word to him and when he did, it was merely a grunt.

I could see now why Charlie was more than a little apprehensive over meeting my latest date, but I felt confident. So confident that Edward would be different than all the other boys my age, because in his car he had always seemed so thoughtful and polite...

"All day, every minute, every hour," Charlie snorted after taking a long sip of his beer. "What is it with this kid, Bells? You already planning your wedding with him or something?"

I turned to give him a piercing look and he raised two hands in resignation. And then the doorbell rang. The butterflies in my stomach then had been replaced with full-blown nausea. I had to resist the strong urge to bolt straight to the toilet and vomit.

Charlie raised his eyebrows at me and smiled. "The financial advisor is here."

I rushed over and knelt by his side, flinging an arm around his shoulder, coercing him with a few stern words. "Dad, promise me you'll try to be nice no matter what..."

He waved my arm away and sighed heavily. "Jesus Christ, Bells. I'll be on my best behaviour."

"I know he might be a little older, but it doesn't matter." I didn't know why I was trying to convince Charlie of that, he didn't even seem to have a problem with it. At least not externally. "He's different than all the other boys so please..."

"Bella, the door." It rang again and we both stared at it for a few seconds before Charlie stood up and slowly walked over to answer, taking his can of beer along with him. _Great, just what I needed... for Edward to think my Dad was an alcoholic_. "Way to impress him, Bells. Keep him standing out there all night getting attacked by mosquitoes..." I heard him mumble dryly before flinging it open.

I'm not quite sure what I expected of Edward. But as soon as that door opened, all thoughts and expectations flew out of the window entirely.

There were no words possible to do him justice.

"Come on in, kid," Charlie said flatly.

I felt the nausea make its reappearance over the way Charlie was talking to him._ He could have at least tried to sound welcoming!_

As he leaned against the doorframe, wiping his polished black shoes cautiously on the mat before stepping into our house, I took the moment to observe Edward. He was wearing a black overcoat and a white shirt with two buttons and the collar loosely undone which, if I had looked even closer, I would have probably seen the delicious muscles of his chest, and dark grey trousers.

He was even taller than Charlie by several inches- which clearly my dad wasn't expecting either, because his face was one of shock.

As he extended a hand out towards my father, a smile played along the edges of his mouth. "You must be Bella's father," Edward said quietly, noticing my father's hesitation to shake his hand. I had to hold back the fierce urge to kick Charlie to make him snap out of whatever it was he was doing right now. "Thank you for allowing me to take your daughter out for dinner tonight. I'll keep her safe, you have my word."

Charlie looked down at his hand, and then exchanged a glance with me.

"Yes, this is my father Charlie," I snapped when he didn't seem to answer.

My father merely looked dazed for one single second, then at last shook Edward's waiting hand. Groping, more like it. "Well, you weren't exactly what I was expecting," he croaked out, grinning widely. "Bella isn't known for her taste in boys."

I rolled my eyes behind his back, chagrin. _Why did he have to make things so difficult?_

Edward looked a little perplexed by my father's words and I gave out an embarrassed little laugh to break the silence. "I'll just, um, go get my jacket, and then we'll be off, Dad." I shot him a pleading look, which he returned with a small nod.

I rushed into my bedroom, listening warily to the faint murmurings going on from the pair of them in the hallway as I rummaged through my drawers. I knew Charlie was trying to make small talk, I just hoped he wasn't saying anything too personal that Edward would feel the need to mention later; I wouldn't have put it past Charlie to whip out some old baby photos of me just to horrify me.

At last, I found a decent enough jacket to wear out. It was a blue woollen button-up, and kept my arms covered up enough from the chilly evening breeze. As I shoved it on, I stalked straight out, passing Edward and ignoring Charlie, who was now muttering on about some baseball game he was eager to watch tonight while I was away.

I was halfway down the steps before Edward caught up, catching my wrist, his cool fingers overlapping. I swung around to look at him.

"I'm _so_ sorry about tonight," I whispered desperately, cringing up at the front door of my house where Charlie was most likely sitting inside now, lounging around. "I'm sorry about the way Charlie treated you just then- you didn't deserve all that!"

"Bella, it's perfectly fine," he said, smiling serenely. I noticed how the muscles in his throat bunched up and knotted together as he swallowed. It dawned on me then that maybe he was just as nervous about meeting Charlie and this whole dinner date as I was. "I think it went quite well on the contrary, considering how your father felt about me at first glance."

I raised my eyebrows at him. Although his words were meant to comfort me, they didn't offer me the slightest bit of consolation. "How could you possibly _know_ how my father felt?"

He was getting ready to answer; his mouth opened slightly, but then he shook his head. I was left feeling disappointed all of a sudden. I wanted to know how he could have gained such insight over things like that.

Instead he smiled, and leaned down slightly. I wasn't expecting it at all. I tilted my head back and a small gasp slipped out of my parted lips. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, smiling apologetically, his thumb stroking my wrist before he loosened his hold. "I didn't mean to scare you just then, but the perfume you're wearing... it's very lovely." His voice trembled slightly.

My heart fluttered at his sweet compliment. But that's when I remembered I wasn't even wearing perfume. That was one of the things I had forgotten to put on tonight; a squirt of the perfume my mother had brought me for my sixteenth birthday two years ago.

I laughed a little awkwardly.

"What?" he asked confusedly, laughing along awkwardly with me. I peeked up at him and smiled, and the returning crooked smile he gave me almost made my knees weaken.

I took a second to appreciate the gentle night time breeze against my flushed cheeks, and closed my eyes momentarily. "It's just... I'm not wearing any perfume..."

I slowly reopened my eyes to focus them on him. He was staring down at me pensively, his brows furrowing at my words, bronzed hair wild and windblown in every direction from the light breeze. Then, as he gently let go of my wrist- almost reluctantly, I noted with contentment – I kept my eyes on him as he moved, his shoes scuffling gently against the pavement, until he was standing right behind me. I couldn't see him now, but I could feel him.

He leaned down, and with one hand, he picked up my hair carefully between his fingers and swept it away from the left side of my neck, leaving my neck exposed to both him and the chilly Forks wind. The delicate touch felt very intimate and left a trail of goose bumps from my collarbone to my hairline. I could feel his cool breath- slightly cooler than the wind- on my neck and in my ear. It was an amazing, sensual feeling.

My heart was pounding, picking up a notch as he then whispered, directly into my ear, "That's very fortunate, because Bella, you smell so delicious already." His voice was low and husky and most of all, approving and it made me shiver in delight. "Why mask up your natural scent and taint it?"

I was caught off guard by the peculiar question, feeling my heart jump into my throat; what was I meant to say to that? He was still there, his hand still holding my hair back while the other clutched strongly at my waist. He pulled me back so that he was right up against me, the full length of his body hard and solid against my back, and I couldn't stifle the surprised whimper at his actions.

The very tip of his nose, ice-cold and gentle, skimmed the bare skin on my neck and I thought I heard him inhale briefly through his nostrils. But I could have been mistaken. I was probably imagining it. This whole thing felt all surreal, something in a movie. Not something that would have actually been happening to me.

I craned my neck over to meet his eyes. They were very dark, and penetrating. Not at all the bright blue-green that they had been before. I swallowed loudly.

"Should we, um," deep breath... "head off to dinner now?"

I could almost see his gorgeous brain clicking into gear as he realized that we were still outside my house. He cleared his throat suddenly, and straightened up. The tension that seemed to have surrounded us several minutes ago abruptly dissipated.

"Of course," he mumbled, quickly straightening out some visible wrinkles on his shirt.

He then reached out and took my hand, sliding his against mine. I was gradually starting to get used to how cold his hands were, though it still shocked me every now and then. He started leading me toward his car that was parked across the road, placing one hand on the small of my back, guiding me gently, his other hand clasping mine more tightly in his. He looked right to left several times before we started crossing, even though there were clearly no cars coming anytime soon. No blinding headlights in our lines of sight.

Although it was very sweet of him, I couldn't help feeling almost as though I was a frail old woman with Edward being the young gentleman who helped her cross the road slowly and cautiously. I had to shake my head to clear that thought, but I almost laughed out loud.

"I _cannot_ believe how wonderful you smell," Edward whispered against my cheek as we finally reached the passenger side of his car.

"Thank you," I managed to choke out. It wasn't every day a man seemed overly fixated on the way I smelt. However strange it may be, I took it all in my stride regardless.

"I'm having a wonderful time already."

I smiled and blushed. "Me too." I wondered if he'd noticed how I was only able to speak two-word sentences right now with the way he was holding me tightly to him.

As he opened the door for me and stepped away, my stomach sank at the distance he had now left between us. I realized I hadn't taken the time to appreciate how good it felt to be so close to him. How protected I felt in his arms and the way he'd seem to lead the way. But I was positive there would be a chance for more intimate moments between the two of us as the night slowly progressed, and it was only just beginning.


	4. First Date Part II

S.M owns all things Twilight. I own nothing.

**Thank you all so much for your reviews. Hope you enjoy this chap. and I really hope it's not badly written. I appreciate your feedback so much and am really flattered! :-)**

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><p><em>Chapter 4<em>

When we arrived at the restaurant, it was just after seven. I was now rethinking the decision I had made not to eat anything before going out to dinner with him tonight. Something a little solid and heavy would have done well for the nerves and would have calmed them, if minutely. I checked my appearance in one of the tinted windows, smoothing down my hair furtively as he joined me on the other side of his car. Then, satisfied with myself, I took Edward's outstretched hand and intertwined our fingers together. I hoped he didn't mind me doing that, hoped it wasn't too sudden but he didn't seem bothered by it at all.

As we slowly crossed the road to the side of the restaurant, he had the strangest expression on his face. He seemed a little distant, distracted by something. I found myself relieved that I wasn't wearing some impractical high-heel shoes right now; it took all my effort to match his long strides. Funnily enough, my legs were shaking-probably from the nerves- and I felt I couldn't even walk properly in a straight line, despite wearing flat shoes.

"What's the rush?" I tried to joke.

"There's no rush," he shrugged. "I just want us to get inside." And then he leaned down to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear and smiled at me. There was something very wrong about his smile; it seemed forced almost.

I didn't know why I got scared then. But something had to be wrong for him to want to get inside the restaurant so quickly. _Was I boring him that much that he was eager for the night to end?_

I realized Edward was looking down at me, amusement lurking in his dark eyes. "I don't want us to be standing here outside in the cold for too long. You're shivering already..."

"Am I?" I blurted out confusedly. And then I realized I _was_ shivering. My teeth were chattering loudly together, but it wasn't just because of the cool breeze flushing against my skin. It was _everything. _The panic that Edward would have some kind of revelation and realize he wasn't attracted to me anymore. The nerves of making a fool out of myself in front of him had me shaking, especially...

He paused by the double doors of the restaurant and slowly turned to face me, his expression grave. "Bella, there's something I need you to do for me once we approach the reception desk."

He wanted me to do something? My heart began to pound at one hundred miles per hour and I could feel all the hairs on the nape of my neck standing on end in anticipation. "What is it?"

"I need you to pretend to be my wife."

"Your wife?" I repeated loudly, on the verge of hysterics. He shushed me quickly by covering my mouth with a firm hand and looked around us frantically. I didn't know whether he was making a joke or if he was being serious, but then judging by the seriousness on his face, it seemed he was. Taking a deep breath, I calmed down and sensing it, he moved his hand away. "Why do I have to pretend to be your wife?" I asked, lowering my voice to nothing more than a whisper.

I felt a little bad for thinking it hilarious in that instance. But it just seemed too ridiculous that I would ever be good enough to even be his wife, let alone act as if.

He exhaled loudly and combed a hand through his slick hair. "Bella, it was the only way I could make a reservation in such short notice," he admitted slowly. "I had to lie otherwise we would have been eating take-out in some overcrowded store downtown." He seemed genuinely horrified at the thought of spending our date sitting in a takeaway store.

I shrugged, enjoying his ongoing look of discomfort more than I probably ought to been. "But what's wrong with that?"

He scoffed. "Back in the 1900's, it was customary for the man to take his date somewhere with a little more class Bella. You definitely deserve that much, don't you think?"

"We're not in the 1900's anymore, Edward, if you haven't noticed..."

"Well, things were a lot easier back then." He raised an eyebrow at me and I got this sudden feeling that he was about to start lecturing me. And I was right. "It was a lot less complicated, where people didn't have to rely on technology to get the message across."

"And you know this _how_?" I asked, unconvinced.

He didn't answer.

Instead he pulled me along through the double doors with a deep sigh to the reception desk. The lady behind the desk was an attractive one, who looked no more or less around Edward's age. She smiled at the pair of us politely and asked if we had a reservation. Edward calmly explained that we did indeed have one.

Halfway through telling her, his arm came down around my shoulders. He gripped my far shoulder and pulled me in closer to him as he spoke to her in a hushed voice. _Boy, was he good at acting. He at least deserved an Academy Award for this!_ I decided to ham it up a little myself; I buried the side of my face against his soft white shirt and inhaled deeply, hoping he wouldn't have noticed. But he was too busy speaking with the young girl behind the reception desk anyway. He smelt a little like cigarettes, some musky cologne and grass.

As I peeked up at him, Edward was scratching his neck in annoyance. "I called last night and booked in a reservation at the last minute. Tonight's our third year wedding anniversary. I'm sure you'll find it in there somewhere underneath Edward and Bella Masen..."

_Bella Masen?_ It felt strange to hear it out loud that way but, oddly enough, it felt right. Fitting.

My stomach growled and I realized with a start that I'd been so preoccupied with panicking over tonight's date with Edward that I had forgotten to eat anything substantial all day, except for a bowl of cereal for breakfast in the morning. The receptionist was scanning down the several columns in the large book, searching for Edward's booking with fervent attention, tapping her fingernails against the wooden desk.

I chanced a tiny glance up at him, hoping he hadn't heard the impolite sound my stomach gave out. His head was tilted slightly in my direction and he was looking right at me. Our eyes locked for several seconds, his dark and shining against the bright lights hovering above us. The candlelight from the chandelier hanging above us flickered generously on his face and made him look about as pale as an enchanting waxwork figure. Slowly, I felt him lift the heavy weight of his arm gently off my shoulder and his thumb and forefinger closed over the fleshy skin of my earlobe.

The nervousness I was feeling then was suddenly amplified a thousand times more now that he was rubbing my earlobe gently between his smooth fingers. I thought I was about to go crazy by the slow and sensual, repetitive movement as I looked straight ahead at the young woman, my eyes fluttering closed momentarily in pleasure. I could have attacked him right then in front of the young receptionist, tearing undone his shirt and assaulting him with fierce, animalistic kisses. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see he was still looking at me and I felt my cheeks go red at the impure-but very tempting- thoughts I was having about him.

I was so thankful that he couldn't read my mind then, or have the ability to.

"Ah, yes. I've finally found it," the lady finally said in a sickly sweet voice, beaming up at Edward.

_Good_. I really needed food. I was already beginning to feel faint over all the sensations that were now being swamped onto me. My insides felt unbearably tight and empty, and my ears were starting to ring a little. I raised a hand quickly to my forehead and bowed my head a little; squeezing my eyes tightly shut against the lightheadness and edginess I was feeling.

Instantly, I felt Edward's hand drop from my ear and then felt it gripping strongly at my hip. He pulled me in closer, whispering frantically in my ear.

"Beloved, are you all right?"

"Just feeling a little lightheaded, that's all," I said as controlled as I possibly could; only my voice came out wobbly and subdued. "I forgot to eat something small before tonight. Stupid, I know."

"I want to get some food into you, but this lady..."

"It's fine. I can wait..." And I would.

I tried to focus on breathing slowly and deeply through my nostrils; I didn't particularly enjoy the thought of fainting in front of Edward on our first date together. His large hand lightly covered the half of my forehead and provided the exact same relief as a cool flannel. I leaned into his hand, it felt so good, but I was trying to act inconspicuous over the whole thing.

"Right, let me show you both to your table," the lady said as she slammed the book shut. "My apologies for having you both wait. Please follow me."

We both followed her, Edward leading the way in front of me, into the back of the restaurant. I had never been in such an expensive-looking restaurant before and the sight surprised me. Each table was lit with scented candles and the chairs were made out of what looked like black leather. The lady led us to one closed-off, quiet corner of the room and placed our menus on the table.

Edward walked around the table to pull out my chair for me and the host must have taken it as her cue to leave because, without anything more than a small smile, she left us alone. I felt Edward's thumb sweep over the mounds of my knuckle lightly before letting go of my hand and taking his seat opposite me. My skin seemed to tingle there for a bit until I folded my hands nervously into my lap and observed the room, just for something to do, rather than stare at him.

The restaurant had a friendly, intimate feel about it. There was soft, flowing piano music drifting in the background and the pleasing scent of rose and coconut wafted into the air from the burning candles that softly illuminated the room. An elderly couple at the table a foot away from us were already being served their meals, and they began chattering animatedly as they collected their silverware. It was nice, somewhere that you could go to with the intentions of really getting to know someone... which was why I was here, of course.

It was all very elegant, but so blindingly luxurious. It didn't feel right having Edward take me here without me paying for my own share of dinner tonight. I had over thirty dollars rolled up into one of my jean pockets; I vowed I would definitely be paying for my own dinner tonight. It was the right thing to do.

I didn't know why, but I was suddenly afraid to let my eyes fall back onto Edward. Probably because I was certain inside that if I did let myself look at him, there would be no chance of me ever bringing myself to break contact easily... Instead I focused on the table cloth, white linen, and raised a hand to smooth out some of the creases that had been left on it. But then someone's hand fell onto mine, their fingertips stroking circular movements at my fingers.

Suddenly aware of myself acting stupidly, I cleared my throat and forced myself to look up and meet his eyes. He was already staring at me, with such an intensity that was overwhelming. His eyes were dark and shining in the faint flickering light reflected in the candle directly in between the both of us and I just as suddenly realized it was his hand that was now rubbing itself against mine. Blood and heat rushed up to my face at the realization and I was positive he noticed.

"I hope this isn't too much," he began uncertainly, leaning back in his chair. "I didn't want to come across as if I was trying too hard to impress you, but then I am so..." He shrugged and waved a hand vaguely in the air. "It's been a long time since I've taken out a beautiful woman. It's all a little fresh to me."

"Well..." I started, grinning like a fool. "You certainly do impress... but then... this _really_ isn't necessary..."

He leaned in as if to hear me more clearly. "Why's that?"

"Because... you've already impressed me enough as it is... without all of _this_... it looks too expensive." My eyes darted around the room to stress my point, and when I met his eyes again, they had visibly darkened over my last words. I swallowed.

Why the hell was I saying this? Could I sound anymore ungrateful than I already did right now? _Idiot!_

We sat there in silence for a moment, and I was certain that he was about to stand up from that chair and leave me right then and there but, to my surprise –or relief, more like it- he didn't.

He leaned in again and as he did so, his hand slid up further to fully cover mine. It was strong and wonderful and I never wanted him to ever stop touching me. "I don't mean to come off as a pompous ass right now by saying this, Bella, but with the way I was born and raised, money held little significance to my family. So all of this, it's no nuisance to me, really..."

His words were only half sinking in, because with the way he was touching me, the way he was looking at me with those eyes, desperate for my understanding, I desperately wanted to open a window in the restaurant because the room was sweltering.

He suddenly laughed at something, breaking the sudden bubble of hot tension I was feeling inside, and leaned back in his chair again.

"What's so funny?" I asked confusedly, sliding my hand out from underneath his and placing it in my lap self-consciously.

"It's nothing, I'm sorry." He tried to keep a straight face, though the corners of his mouth twitched. Seeing him like this, not so serious and letting his guard down a bit- looking so boyishly adorable at the same time- kind of made me want to laugh along with him. If only I was in on the joke.

"I feel so left out right now..." I mumbled, trying not to smile myself.

He rested his chin on his hand, about to explain it to me, but then to my disappointment, a young waitress came to collect our orders. I hadn't even looked at the menu yet. I was too curious in knowing what he was laughing about. I scanned the menu hurriedly, finding the first meal that was under twenty dollars and said my order. Black Bean Soup. When the girl turned to face Edward, her face lit up. I didn't like that look at all to be honest.

"And what can I get _you_?" she breathed at him, curling a piece of her blond hair behind her earlobe.

I felt the bile rise within over the way she was acting toward him. All of a sudden I wanted to tell her that _I _was on a date with this gorgeous boy so could she please not hit on him in front of me... It dawned on me then that I was so pathetically jealous. My hands clenched into tight fists in my lap and I realized I was clenching my jaw firmly shut. It was ridiculous of me to even feel this way- we weren't even dating. Heck, he probably wasn't even interested in me in _that_ way.

I glanced over at Edward to find he was still studying the menu. He wasn't even paying any attention to the girl then. I inwardly smiled.

"Could I please have the steak?" he asked her politely. "And the salad on the side." As he handed her the menu, he finally glanced up at her. I could practically feel her melting inside. "Also, can I have the steak rare? As bloody as you serve it?"

"Of course you can," she cooed at him sweetly as she scribbled his order down onto her little notebook. "Anything else?" she inquired eagerly.

Edward glanced over at me.

"Um, just some water, please?" I asked uncertainly, both to Edward and her.

She wrote down that order and then left us, not before dropping her pen and staring past her shoulder at Edward again before disappearing.

I let out a frustrated breath of air and tried to relax my hands out of their rigid position in my lap. I had this sudden, startling urge to punch something- and I was never, _ever_ a violent person. It frightened me.

"So, what's your job like?" I asked quickly, just for something to say to alleviate these horrible, malevolent urges I was feeling inside.

He chuckled, rubbing his chin in thought for a moment over my question. "Repetitive." Seeing my quizzical glance, he added, "I mainly deal with handing out life insurance policies, and wills after the person loses their significant other. Those are the main areas that I'm involved in..." He shrugged.

"It sounds depressing in a way," I said pensively.

"It's fascinating to me," he said softly. "_Death_ has always been fascinating to me."

I shuddered at the bleak turn our conversation was taking. "Why is death fascinating?"

"I suppose, when you know you're going to die eventually, when you know you have a limit and that you're not invincible like some... it encourages you to live a little differently, to be a little more... courageous."

It was strange the way his face almost lit up in excitement as he told me this. This was something he thought about often, I could tell. "You've really thought about this a lot, haven't you?"

He looked cautious, his mouth tightening. "What makes you say that?" he asked suspiciously.

I shrugged, staring down at my lap. A male waiter came along this time, placing a jug of chilled ice water and some glasses on the table. I took advantage of the silence between us by pouring myself a glass. I took a long drink, waiting for him to speak again. When he did, I almost spat out my mouthful of water and coughed.

"Do you believe in soul mates?"

I didn't think I heard him correctly. I leaned in closer after quickly wiping my mouth with a hand, both elbows on the table. "Sorry, do I believe in- _what_?"

"Soul mates," Edward repeated gently, and he lifted his arm to place his hand where it had been before, large and wonderful, over mine. "Two people who happen to stumble across each other out of the blue and they're destined to be together forever."

I thought about his question for a long, hard moment. I honestly didn't know how to answer it.

"I don't know, Edward..." I began, biting my lip. It was a little nervous habit I'd had ever since I could remember. "I suppose when I was younger, I um, I believed in that sort of thing. Like in the fairy tales. But not now. Now that I've, um, gotten older I just... don't see how that's possible..."

His hand stopped rubbing against mine but he didn't move it. He just sat there for a moment, thinking about what I'd just said.

"It's just my parents were married and my Mom used to read me fairy tales all the time before tucking me into bed when she still lived with us." I felt desperate to explain, even though I probably wasn't making any sense to him at all. "I think those fairy tales reinforced this idealistic belief I had where I assumed my parents would forever be married until they were old and grey. And it just didn't happen that way." Admitting this to him, it suddenly evoked these strong feelings of sadness that had never really resurfaced again after my parents' divorce. "I personally don't believe that anything lasts forever. I don't believe in happily ever after. I don't even_ know_ if I believe in... soul mates."

I felt like the night was suddenly coming to an abrupt end and we hadn't even had dinner yet, all because of my stupid mouth. I wanted to stay with him, I wanted to talk all night... but somehow I just_ knew_ I had ruined it.

"Interesting," he only said. He sounded... surprised?

"Interesting?" I repeated in a wobbly voice.

He gave me a crooked smile and I felt as though my insides were quickly evaporating away into jelly. "It's just our childhoods seem to be on the opposite ends of the scale." I stared at him in silence, confused. "Contrary to your parents, mine have been married for a _very_ long time now, and they've never looked back since."

He loved his parents very much, I noted in that instance; he spoke about them with a high level of fondness.

"My mother had been previously married to a man who treated her very horribly." There was bitterness in his tone of voice and it scared me. But then he sighed loudly and peered up at me, his expression softening into something like – happiness? Eagerness? I couldn't tell what. "Long story short, my father nursed her back to health while she had sustained a fractured rib and a broken arm and eventually, he also nursed back her belief in the good things in life which are worth living for..."

"That's beautiful that they have each other," I muttered in agreement.

I was waiting eagerly for more about his parents, but then the waitress arrived with our dinner. Edward quickly moved his hand away from mine and I felt my skin prickle from the sudden loss of contact. The soup smelt good, but now I actually didn't feel like eating. I felt nervous about eating in front of Edward.

He was staring down at his plate of steak with a look of distaste. He hadn't even picked up his silverware.

"What's wrong?" I asked nervously. "Is it not rare enough?"

"Bella, it's fine," he said in a hushed tone.

"Oh. Okay." I collected my spoon, then let a generous amount of the brown liquid pool onto the spoon before having a taste. It actually didn't taste all that bad either, though the condiments they used made it a little more spicy than was necessary.

"What does that taste like?" I heard Edward ask quietly, and when I looked over at him, he still hadn't touched his piece of steak. He was staring at me, eyes dark and dangerously penetrating, as though me eating was the most fascinating event on earth.

I laughed nervously. "_Why_? Do you want to try it?"

"No." His voice trembled slightly in urgency. He leaned over in his chair. "Describe to me what it tastes like- to _you_." He wanted me to describe how it tasted? I honestly didn't know how to describe it very well. I thought about how to word it.

"Well," I began, smiling widely. Why was he even asking me this? "It's salty and warm... the beans are soft on your tongue..." I quickly gave up, feeling my whole face going red. "Is that, um, a good enough description for you?"

"It's perfect," he said with conviction.

It turned out Edward wasn't as hungry as he thought he was. He hardly touched his steak, which was quite bizarre, but I didn't think much into it. As we walked out of the restaurant together, I felt his hand on my back again like earlier, leading me cautiously through the parking lot to his car. The air felt good against my face as I was sure the whole majority of the night was spent with it flushed. There weren't many cars left. I suppose we had been in there for longer than I thought.

As Edward opened the door for me, I saw him check his watch as I sat. He stood there for a moment before shutting it, the wind blowing his hair in a more unruly state. I had to fight the urge to hop up out of my seat and run my fingers through it.

"Thank you for taking me out tonight," I said as we drove along the ruler-straight highway. I was nervous.

"Well, thank you for finally agreeing to let me pay," he teased and I couldn't help but smile. After I had finished my dinner, I had retrieved my money, ready to pay for my own order but Edward had downright refused. It was as if to him the mere thought of me paying for my own meal was the worst thing in the world.

I looked out the window and was met with the same scene and same feeling. Pitch-black darkness. A road with two straight lanes ahead of us illuminated by the headlights of his car. Tree stumps. Bush. Heat in the car that didn't seem normal compared to the frosty air outside.

"Do you have the heater on?" I asked, just for something to say.

"Yes, I do."

The wave of nausea over the separation impending on us made me feel sick inside. I felt like throwing up the soup I had consumed because of it. I wasn't ready to say goodbye yet; I wished I could have stayed with him, learn more about him and talk all night into the early morning hours. But then my father would kill me if I did. Plus, I had school in the morning.

I decided I would let Edward lead the way. He could decide whether he wanted to see me again or whether or not he should call, or if we should kiss each other goodnight or not.

As we arrived at my house, he parked across the street again like last time. I sat in his car patiently and waited for him to open the door for me. He definitely didn't seem like other boys in that sense, and I found that was one of the main things I liked about him. He acted like a true gentleman, opening doors and pulling out chairs for me.

As he opened the car door for me, I noticed he looked just as nervous as I felt then. I hugged my arms to my chest from the slight breeze as I hopped out and as he closed the door carefully shut, he wasn't looking at me. He was staring down at the asphalt as he leaned against the side of his car, a finger tracing the glossy exterior on the hood. He reminded me of a vulnerable, little boy for some reason and I had to try my very hardest not to smile because of it.

_Let him lead the way, _I reminded myself, peeking up at my house quickly. The porch light was on, which meant Charlie was still awake, waiting for my return.

I turned my head back to find Edward looking at me with a peculiar expression in his eyes. "You looked absolutely stunning tonight." He raised a hand to finger the material on my jacket. I felt the iciness of his fingers trickle right through the fabric to my gooseflesh-ridden skin. "That colour blue especially suits you."

He was so close. Instinctively I looked away, I didn't quite know why. "Thank you," I whispered nervously.

He cupped his hand underneath my chin and gently raised my head so that I was looking him deep in the eyes. There was a mischievous glint to them. "Your looking away tells me that you are unable to accept a compliment fully, which is just ridiculous..."

"Well, you have very nice ey-"

I was about to return the compliment in some form or another, but he wasn't having that. Before I had even finished speaking, he leaned forward and his mouth was on mine with gentle little kisses. He held my face in both hands, thumbs gently stroking my cheeks. I took his lower lip- like I had before in his car- and nibbled it softly. I could tell it was something he liked; he shuddered against me with a little moan escaping and I thought it was so amazing that I could have that affect on somebody.

I had never once before kissed a guy quite like this, but it seemed I was gaining the upper hand here. My hands found their way to his hair and I knotted and twined my fingers through the soft strands of it. Kissing Edward felt so intimate. Intimate because a part of him- his tongue- was now inside me, cool and minty and sliding back and forth against mine. Tasting his breath as I gasped for air in between kisses felt so spiritual.

I felt I could have kissed him forever and never stop. I wondered if this was usual for a girl to feel towards the man she liked.

A low, deep growl clattered from the very back of his throat- a sound I had never heard from a human before, which sent a spike of excitement pulsating through me- and seemed to vibrate through his mouth to mine. He slowly separated his lips from mine and buried his cool face into the crook of my neck. He was panting, whispering my name over and over. I was pleased by his reaction.

"I want to see you again," he groaned against my skin. As he removed his face from my neck, I saw he had his eyes tightly shut, his mouth twisted in pain.

I still couldn't fathom why he reacted that way after we kissed. It was exactly like before in his car. It frightened me. Was I such a bad kisser that he felt disgusted afterwards? Because his eyes were closed, I chose the moment to scrutinize his face without embarrassing myself. His forehead was creased with a thin line, probably due to the way he was squeezing his eyes shut. His eyelids were severely purple that it was worrisome.

_Good_. He wanted to see me again!

I grinned widely. "I would really like to see you again, too."

His eyes slowly fluttered open after several seconds when I admitted it, and then he peered down at me through dark lashes. His pupils were largely dilated and black, shining bright only with humour.

"Thank you for a wonderful night, Bella." He sounded sincere, at least. I stared at him, wide-eyed in confusion as he dashed over to the driver's side and flung the door open. "I'll call you," he called quickly over the hood and then, as fast as lightning it seemed, he was starting his car in a flash. It came to life with a thunderous purr and the last thing I heard was the squeal of tyres skidding across the bend. Then he was out of sight into the pitch-black darkness.


	5. By the Window

Thanks so so much for your reviews, so sorry it has taken me so long to write another chapter! This may be a tad short, but please let me know what you think! ;)

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><p><em>Chapter 5<em>

I sat in my comforting bed, staring up at the ceiling through the darkness as I curled a stray piece of hair around my fingers, then let out a huff of air, deeply annoyed. I tossed onto my side slowly, only to peer over at my alarm clock. It was over three o'clock in the morning, and I still hadn't had any luck in getting to sleep. What made it all the more frustrating was that I had to wake up in a mere five hours time to get ready and dressed for school.

My mind was fast, thinking unrelentlessly over how the date had progressed with Edward tonight. I knew it had went okay, I accepted that there was no way I could reverse time to change any outcome. The date had went past all expectations tonight; Edward had been courteous, romantic and had treated me so well, opening doors for me and paying for my dinner.

My eyelids were heavy, I so wanted to sleep, but then my mind just wouldn't let me. It constantly sifted through tonight's events with Edward, right down to the very part where he had sped off in his car so quickly.

I wasn't mad about him speeding off before he had even had the time to walk me to my door, I was simply worried. Worried if something had happened, perhaps to one of his parents that caused him to leave in a hurry. Or maybe it was just because of me, I only didn't want to believe it...

I yelped as my phone suddenly started ringing, scaring me half to death. _Who on earth would be calling me at this time of the night? Are they insane?_ Once my breathing had settled down and went back to normal, I reached over and pressed _answer_.

"Hello?" I mumbled, my voice thick with exhaustion as I sat up slowly against my pillow.

"_Bella_? Did I wake you, darling?"

My breath caught in my throat at the sound of his voice. I was silent, waiting suspiciously for him to keep on talking, to reveal to me why he was calling at such a late hour. Only he didn't.

"Who is this?" I tried to joke underneath my breath, laughing silently. I knew it was Edward. There could be no mistaking that smooth, velvety voice. And it could only belong to one person.

"The very person who is looking in at you through your window at this very moment in time." His voice was like a low, wistful sigh. There was a hint of playfulness to it that surprised me.

But still, I was horror-struck, holding my breath at his words.

"Are you seriously watching me?" I whispered, alarmed. _He must be joking!_ I automatically hopped to my feet, dropping the white bedsheet that I had wrapped tightly around me to the floor.

I hissed as my bare feet slapped against the cold hardwood floor as I tiptoed over to my window. I pulled back the yellow lace curtains, and peered out anxiously through the glass into the pitch-black darkness. I wasn't able to see a single darned thing; it was too dark outside.

"_Mmmm_," he moaned huskily through the reciever deeply, making a noisy show of licking his lips. A deep, uncontrollable brush crept on the skin of my face, burning me as though I was being licked by flames from a fireplace. "I like the choice of clothes you wear to bed, they're very... weather-appropriate." His voice was quiet and compelling, with the merest hint of a smile.

I leaned forward, resting my hand against the window ledge, concentrating hard. It was frustrating enough, the fact that I couldn't see where he actually was outside, let alone the baffling idea that he was even there outside, looking up at my house on a frosty Forks evening past midnight.

Sure enough, if I really focused hard enough and squinted through the darkness, I could only just make out Edward's face and the hand that was holding his cell phone up to his ear as he slowly moved around, pacing back and forth across the road opposite my house, his face and hands floating white and disembodied.

"What are you still doing here?" I asked, rubbing my face to hide the fact that it was probably bright red right now due to the nerves I was feeling inside. I couldn't seem to wrap my head around the whole thing... It was crazy!

"I said I would call after tonight, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did," I breathed, smiling hugely as relief took over. He did call again, I just didn't think he would have. Especially not after having left so abruptly in his car at the end of our date. "But you didn't have to call so suddenly."

Even through the darkness, I could still make out that brilliant smile of his. "I know, I just felt bad. I wanted to hear your voice." The fierce sincerity in his voice wrecked havok with my heart. I felt woozy all of a sudden.

There was a moment of still, unsettling silence on his end, where I stared out at him through my window.

Then, I was the one to break it as I drew in a jagged breath. "It's good hearing your voice, too."

"Do you have school tomorrow?"

"Yes," I admitted sadly, feeling strangely dissapointed.

I almost felt as if a heart attack was coming on as he sedately strolled across the quiet road to the side of my house, though I felt somewhat relieved now that I could see him more clearly. He stood half a metre away, looking right up into the direction of my window. Our eyes met through the stillness, and the silence on the phone deepened. His face was ghostly pale through the darkness, as well as the clenched hand dangling at his side. It wasn't until he broke contact that I realized I had been holding my breath.

"Why don't you ditch school tomorrow, and then we can spend the whole day together?" His suggestion was casual, light, without any hope. It seemed he knew what I was already going to say. My heart sank in regret and dissapointment. _Was I really that predictable to him?_

I cringed, biting my lower lip. "You know I'd love to spend the whole day with you, but... I just can't. My father would kill me if he found out that I had ditched a whole day of-"

He cut me off, his silky voice indifferent, though I knew it was an act. "Don't worry about it, Bella. We'll find another time to spend time together again. We have all the time in the world."

His eyes met mine again through the glass, and I couldn't seem to shake off the unrelentless dissapointment I was feeling inside. He gave me a small breathtaking smile, and I tried to smile back but the smile was unconvincing.

"Like I said, there's always another time," he said quietly through the phone, shrugging up at me, though I felt the dissapointment saturating his voice. "You should focus on your studies, I understand." He peered across the secluded road through the darkness, then shifted between his feet uncertainly as he peered back up at me. "Listen, I'll let you get back to sleep." He jabbed a thumb past his shoulder vaguely. "My car's parked around the block."

I watched him glumly as he took a slow step backwards, still facing me, his eyes never leaving my own. I was torn in that instance; in a way, I felt like thinking _screw it, I'll skip the whole day and spend time with Edward_, but then another voice inside my head- the rational one- told me that studying was very important, _more_ important than a gorgeous older boy.

But then I wished for a moment that I could have fun, just break all the rules, and live a little... What damage could skipping one day of school do to my results?

"Edward, wait!" I called urgently through the phone. He paused from his walking at once, staring up at me quizzically. "You know what, let's do it. Let's meet tomorrow morning at my school, then we can spend the whole day together, all right?"

He looked immediately exultant, grinning up at me pleasedly. "All right," he said softly. "Excellent." He chuckled lightly, and I couldn't help but respond to his laughter. I laughed quietly along with him, feeling this amazing sense of freedom and rebelliousness overcoming me.

"See you tomorrow," I whispered.

"Sweet dreams," he whispered back tenderly, still staring up at me, motionless.

I was the one who had to end the phone call, but I didn't exactly want to. I stood there for a moment, shivering and hugging my arms around myself as I watched Edward walk safely around the bend of my house and into the darkness, through my window.

After I was positive he was gone, I let the curtains fall gently back into place, still thinking hard about what had just happened between us. Now I was overcome with a new bout of nerves; not about not attending school tomorrow or the twinge of guilt because it would mean that I was lying to Charlie, but because I now had to figure out what to wear as I spent the day with Edward.

Too strung-out to sleep, I spend half an hour rummaging quietly through my drawers, tossing out various kinds of clothes until I found anything remotely decent to wear. As I managed to find a pair of jeans that I'd always thought looked quite good on me, my cell phone vibrated yet again.

Abandoning my search for a few minutes, I rushed over and flipped it open eagerly, to discover it was a text message from Edward this time around, rather than a call. My heart felt almost as if it had jumped up into my throat as I read the message:

_See you tomorrow beautiful.  
>Hating to wait.<em>


	6. Bella's Very Own Romeo

Still, I own nothing to do wigth Twilight. Just love the characters- like a million others, I bet. :-)

Thank you all so so much for your reviews, alerts, and favorites on this story. It surprises me so much, because I know I am in no way a good writer. So thank you :-) I am sincerely glad that people seem to enjoy this story!

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><p><em>Chapter 6<em>

My face broke out into a huge smile as I changed direction and rushed over to Edward's silver car instead of entering the school gates. He leaned over in his seat to open the door for me, and the answering smile that greeted me made me feel all funny on the inside.

I felt truly breathless, incapable of breathing as I stared back at him.

It turned out he had planned the whole day in advance. First, we would drive to Port Angeles where he knew of a place where they served the best seafood in town. I hadn't eaten seafood in years. Then he wanted us to sit down and eat at a beach close to the shop.

I'd never been to Port Angeles before, so I didn't know the layout all that well. But it seemed Edward was familiar with the shop and it's owner; he greeted the man in perfect Italian, something that shocked me to no end.

I hadn't known he was fluent in Italian.

"What, darling?" A smile played at the corners of his mouth at the astonished expression that was most likely left unconcealed on my face as he took a seat on one of the vacant seats by an empty table to wait for our order. "I hope you like seafood. I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty in ordering for you."

"No, it's fine," I could only manage to choke out. The fact that he was fluent in Italian only justified my reasoning that he was indeed... sexy as hell! I could only smile down at him nervously. It seemed he knew what I was thinking.

"I've learned Italian from spending some time holidaying in Italy several years ago," he explained to me slowly. The fact that he had travelled not only to spend time in Alaska but even to Italy and had even learnt the language fluently, was automatically fascinating to me. After several minutes of bewildered silence on my end, he decided to speak again. "I was afraid you might come to your senses and decide not to follow through on ditching class for me today."

"Did you _really _think I wouldn't follow through and miss the chance to spend an entire day with you?" I asked, unconvinced. "If anything, you would be the one cancelling out on _me_."

"Bella." He said my name and it came out as a regretful sigh. "I never should have tried to convince you to ditch school to spend the day with me. That was very selfish of me to ask that of you. I realize that now."

What was he saying? Was he regretting asking me to spend the day with him? I felt my throat tighten up. What if he... really didn't want to spend the day with me?

"It was inappropriate of me, and I would never want to cause you any problems with your father because of it, if he ever happened to find out by some miraculous chance that you were ditching class to spend time with me. I'm so sorry for all of it."

I felt the heat rising to my face. I didn't understand the meaning of his words. Why would he ask me to ditch school, then turn around and change his mind so suddenly? Suddenly, I felt so stupid. I felt so stupid that I had spent half the night last night awake and eager to see him in the morning, delving through my drawers for something that looked pleasing to wear for him, that I stood up to leave! I looked down at him and the expression he wore must have been as confused as mine had been.

"Did I say something to upset you? Do you want me to give you a ride back to your school?" He peered down at his gold wrist-watch and then cringed. "I'm sorry. I think you've already missed your first class."

"So, you want me to go back to school where we'll never see each other ever again?" I tried to sound strong inside, but my voice quivered underneath the rejection. And it didn't go unnoticed.

"Bella, I was asking you if you wanted to leave to head back to school and finish your classes, not that _I_ wanted you to leave."

"But you said... you said you were sorry... _sorry_ _for all of it_..." I put direct emphasize on the words he had just said. "And I'm not sorry that I decided to ditch school to try spend the day with you." I said the last part so quietly that I wasn't certain he had even heard me or not.

But then something a little like understanding flickered across his face, and he sighed heavily as he reached up to take my hand. Just like before, him touching me had felt so wonderful. He could have kept on touching me for hours, and I would have never in my right mind ask him to stop.

"Bella, I don't think I articulated myself well just then. But then there's something about you that makes me lose all sensibility when I'm in your presence." His thumb brushed lightly across the mounds of my knuckles as he peered up at me very seriously. "I'm simply thinking of your father. It was selfish of me to ask you to spend the day with me, especially when school is so important at your age." Him saying that made me feel stupid, as though I was some foolish, idiotic girl. But then he squeezed my hand and smiled up at me warmly, all foolishness lost in his gaze. "With that being said, I need you to know that I am certainly not sorry that I asked you last night to spend the day with me. I just feel as if I had went about it in the wrong way."

He laughed suddenly. I didn't exactly know why, but I wasn't complaining.

"I really shouldn't have come to your house at such a late hour last night, but I just couldn't let it go knowing the state I'd left you in after our mind-blowing date. I couldn't let you somehow get the thought into your mind that I left so abruptly because I merely wanted to get away from you." His voice trembled slightly and took on a new edge of desperation. It made him all the more enduring, and I found myself relieved that he had cleared it up with me so openly. "I was afraid that if I tried to ask you out again, you would ignore me. So when I called you last night... you cannot begin to imagine how relieved I was to hear your voice when you answered your phone."

"Thank you for clearing that up then," I said, looking down at him honestly in relief. "I thought that maybe I did something wrong, something to turn you off that made you want to leave suddenly when I kissed you. I thought maybe I made you feel sick..." I was babbling nonsense now and I knew it.

He laughed again, then shook his head violently at my words. "Nothing you could ever do would sicken me, Bella. I do enjoy kissing you, believe me, I do. It's just..." He sighed loudly again, looking as though he was debating on whether he ought to tell me the truth or not. I waited with bated breath. "I don't want you to feel as if I am taking advantage of you."

It was my turn to laugh. "Do you honestly think that I believe you are the kind of person to take advantage of a girl like me?" My voice rose to a higher level under the profoundness of my disbelief.

He leaned forward in his chair, and stared up at me. His gaze was unnervingly intense at that moment. I found myself forgetting how to breathe and yet, I couldn't seem to break contact. He really had to stop doing that to me.

"And what kind of man do you believe me to be, Bella?"

His question had caught me off-guard in that moment; my heart was pounding as I forced myself to stare back into his twinkling green eyes. We watched each other for a moment, Edward rubbing his fingers against the back of my hand as we contemplated each other in silence, our surroundings long forgotten.

I thought about his question for a minute, and about what was the best way to repond to it. I hadn't known him long enough to base a conclusion but he was already making an undeniably generous impression.

"Well, based on how shortly we have known each other and how little time I've had with you, I know that you are the kind of man who pulls out a girl's chair for her, and pays for her dinner." I swallowed dryly as he beamed up at me over my assessment, looking deservedly pleased with himself, his eyebrows raised. "It means you are a true gentleman," I continued in a shaky voice. "You are the kind of man that generously offers someone a ride home when they're in need, then asks them out to dinner afterwards. Which would make you very considerate and determined." I watched as the smile on his face grew. "And... you are the kind of man that takes a girl out to the most expensive restaurant, going to great lengths to impress her, even though you've already done quite enough already."

To my surprise, he laughed at the last bit and so did I apprehensively.

"You are fairly perceptive when you've been put on the spot, so I will give you credit there."

"Are you saying that I'm wrong?" I asked, increduosly. "That you're not like that at all?"

He frowned, considering. "Maybe not, but I think you've missed out some negative attributes there."

"But what kind of person doesn't have flaws?" I pointed out.

"One that hides them very well."

Once again, a bout of silence broke out between us. But it wasn't uncomfortable. I don't think it ever was uncomfortable around Edward. There was a new air of tension brewing in the air between us as he ran two sinewy fingers along my ring finger, then up along to my knuckles again.

As the waiter brought our seafood basket to the counter, Edward removed his hand from mine, quite reluctantly I noticed, to accept it. This made me feel very confident inside because it dawned on me that perhaps Edward loved touching me just as much as _I_ loved the feeling of him touching me. The sudden loss of cool contact made my skin prickle.

"Ready to head down to the beach?" Edward asked gently, holding out his empty hand for me to take. I nodded silently and slipped my hand through his.

As we waded through several sand dunes to find a nice place to sit, we fell into easy conversation. We talked about nothing important in particular, just our tastes in music and literature. The music conversation was a tad surprising actually; it turned out I did know quite a few classical musical pieces that Edward enjoyed listening to, Beethoven in particular. Edward's music collection was actually very varied, from classical to old rock. He didn't enjoy current music that were hits on the charts, and neither did I so in that sense we were very similar.

His favorite book was "Lolita" and mine was "Romeo & Juliet"- no surprise there. I revealed to him- managing to remain quite dignified though I was certain that my cheeks were lobster red- that I had always seemed to have a little thing for Romeo. Edward had laughed at me and it sparked a very heated discussion where he said he found that apparently hard to believe since Romeo, to him, was a malicious character who inflicted suffering onto others due to his own selfishness.

As we found somewhere shaded underneath a tree- not that we needed it, considering the sky was overcast, the sun hidden between a set of deep gray clouds, things got a little more personal.

"Have you ever had a steady boyfriend, Bella?" he asked curiously, brushing a stray hair that had blown out of place from the light breeze back behind my earlobe with his hand. Then he opened the seafood basket, looking out at the sea for several moments, his green eyes squinted at something in the distance.

Crossing my legs and picking at the fabric of my jeans uncomfortably with my fingers, I decided honesty was best. "I've been out on dates with several boys from high school, but it hasn't really ever worked out. It wasn't anything serious, just one date. So, not really, no..."

I peeked over him quickly, checking to see if anything on his face revealed that he was disgusted with my inexperience with the whole dating scene or at the very least shocked, only his face was completely blank. He didn't seem to care too much, then.

"What about you?" I asked uncertainly, not really sure whether I actually wanted to know or not. Because really I knew, deep down inside, that he would have had a lot of experience in charming the ladies. But maybe he was just too modest to admit it.

At last he turned his head so that he was looking at me, his green eyes boring into mine. Instead of answering, he merely took a crumbled scallop from the seafood basket and held it level to my mouth. He chuckled as I leaned in and opened my mouth to accept it from him. I couldn't supress a moan at how good it tasted, even though it did seem a little overcooked.

"This is really good," I moaned, halfway through chewing it.

He chuckled again softly, then grinned crookedly at me. My knees felt weak and I thanked God in that moment that I was sitting in sand rather than standing. If I had been standing, I was certain my knees would have buckled right from underneath me. But frankly everytime he did smile at me, I just about felt myself melting inside.

Then I slowly felt Edward lean forward and press his mouth gently above my ear. I was surprised by the movement. I thought we were having a really great time together. I was over the moon that I was now getting the chance to spend the whole day with him. And here we were, sitting on the beach, eating seafood and talking- at least_ I_ was the one eating seafood while Edward seemed to enjoy feeding me, placing the food into my mouth and scrutinizing my face carefully as I chewed and swallowed as though yet again he found me eating so darn fascinating.

"Thank you for agreeing to spend time with me today," he whispered, ever so politely. I could feel his breath on my ear and across my face as I stared out across the dark gray ocean.

My heart was pounding as he leaned forward yet again, this time pressing his mouth lightly against my cheek. His lips were so cool and left me with a tingling trail of goosebumps along my skin. It was truly exquisite, though I was afraid to turn and look at him. I was afraid to meet his eyes for some reason... afraid to ruin the moment if I moved only the slightest bit.

"Thank you for asking me," I whispered, my voice croaky and small.

I swallowed, quite loudly, as he then whispered directly in my ear. "Will you be my girlfriend, Bella?"

I was stunned, trying not to shiver in arousal as his mouth lingered underneath my earlobe, his breath moist and icy as he continued to breathe on me, waiting for my answer.

"Really?" I could only seem to manage, my voice saturated with sincere surprise.

"Yes. I want you to be my girlfriend. I want to treat you exactly the way that you deserve to be treated."

Even though it all felt surreal, as though it wasn't really happening to me, I couldn't shake the feeling that it _shouldn't_ be happening to me because I could find not one, but two problems with Edward asking me to be his girlfriend: 1) I was younger than him and 2) he really was too good for me. Too smart. Too handsome. Too successful.

I felt I had nothing to offer in return. I hadn't travelled to anywhere outside Washington. I had no experience with the opposite sex.

Yet still there was not one single cell in my body that wanted to say no to the opportunity, despite how surprising it was to me.

_"Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight; for I never saw true beauty 'till this night." _He said it so softly against my skin that I wasn't certain he had said it or not. I might have missed it entirely, had I not had the book memorized from reading it so many times.

"Romeo." I smiled as he leaned in closer, wrapping his arms around me. It felt so... good!

"No, my name is Edward." He chuckled and I could feel the movement against my back.

"Ah, yes... that's right, Edward," I teased. I felt him laugh against me again. Then I went on seriously, "No one has ever quoted Romeo to me before."

"Well, I'm very pleased to be the first."

"Are you really telling me the truth here?" I asked, mainly because I needed to know and I just didn't want our conversations to end. "Are you really asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Yes. I want nothing more than to be your boyfriend, Bella."

_My first boyfriend and hopefully my last_. I blushed at that thought, only he didn't seem to notice.

"Please?" He whispered. His voice rose with the desperation of his request. "_Please_, Bella?"

I didn't answer. I didn't know how.


	7. His Soul Mate

Thank you all so much for your reviews! I really do hope you enjoy this chapter! :-) Sorry for any errors or mistakes- I will go through and clear them up for you. I really appreciate all the lovely reviews for last chapter. I really hope this one is okay!

And again, thank you so much for your interest in my story. This has never happened to me before so it's so amazing of you all! Hope you enjoy

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><p><em>Chapter 7<em>

"Let's make a deal," Edward said, moving to pick up a pair of cue sticks-one for me, and one for him. "If either one of us wins, we have to do something for the other."

After our time together on the beach, it had just only passed two o'clock. I wasn't ready to leave yet; I wanted to spend more time with Edward. And it seemed it was the same way for him, too. As he stood, dusting his trousers off of sand lightly and as I slowly stood too, grinning madly as he did the exact same for me, dusting the sand off my back and jeans with the lightest brush of his hand, he asked that we go to a quiet cosy bar Edward knew in Port Angeles.

I was nervous as we entered, so sure that I would have been thrown out considering I wasn't eighteen yet and didn't have my I.D. But with some smooth talking on Edward's part, I was let in under the condition that I do not ask to be served alcohol- which was no problem for me, since I never even touched the stuff. When I had discovered a large pool table in the corner of the room, Edward demanded we play a game. I hadn't even played pool before.

He thought silently for a moment as he racked the balls and rolled them into position. Then the most mischevious expression came across his face. While he looked cute, it worried me, I wasn't lying. "And if I win you have to dance with me."

I swallowed loudly and it seemed he noticed me panicking. I couldn't dance for the life of me. But I tried to remain somewhat dignified, and agreed silently. "And if I win?" I had meant it mainly as a joke because there was no way in hell that I would be winning against an experienced pool player like him.

He turned his head to look into my eyes. They were dark, and penetrating, searching. "If you win, then I'll do whatever you want, no matter what it is. Your choice."

I perked up a little bit at that. "Okay, whatever I want," I agreed with a small, nervous smile.

He chalked the cue stick, then held it out to me expectantly. "Ladies always go first."

I hesistated before accepting the stick from him. I didn't ever know how to hold the darn thing and I was suddenly aware of myself, more than ever, looking stupid as I positioned the stick on the table.

I peered over my shoulder at him uncertainly. "Am I, uh, doing this right?"

"Not quite, darling. Here, let me show you how to hold it."

All of my worries at looking stupid in front of him seemed to instantly melt away as he came up right from behind me, his body flush against my back as he leaned down over me. I felt my pulse quicken as he slipped his hand over mine, only to slide it further down below the end of the stick.

"You pull it back while you aim at the ball you're shooting for," he whispered against my ear, pulling my arm a fraction back by tugging at my elbow gently. I wasn't exactly concentrating fully on which ball he was helping me aim for, because with the way he was leaning so close over me, the way his hand was fully covering mine wonderfully as he guided me, I lost all train of thought.

His touch was unlike anything I had ever felt. Each time, this little charge of energy seemed to emulate from his skin to mine. I didn't exactly know why that was.

The colorful balls exploded like a mix of fireworks as he helped me hit them, officially starting the game we were playing with each other. He helped me shoot again, directing me and one of the yellow balls teetered on the edge of a corner pocket before falling.

"See, that's how you do it," he said quietly, straightening up and seperating himself from me- reluctantly though, I heard him give out a loud sigh from somewhere behind me- giving me a little bit of space to attempt to shoot again on my own. I tried not to think too much about the aching dissapointment I had suddenly felt inside now that he was standing right next to me to watch patiently, his arms folded across his chest.

"Thanks for your help," I managed to get out, feeling unjustifiably cocky over having gotten a ball into the pocket-even if it had been with his help and not of my own doing.

"No problem." I could hear the faintest hint of a smile in his voice but I was too focused on winning. I found the idea of me having to dance in front of Edward- plus the millions of the other people in the bar- a strong enough deterrant in going easily. I was definitely not keen on losing to him...

I moved to the other side of the table opposite him, thinking hard on my next move. There was a black 8 ball barely an inch away from a side pocket, just dying to be aimed at. I leaned forward and positioned the cue stick level to the white ball into it's direction.

Before I had even went to shoot, my eyes seemed to automatically flit up to where Edward was standing on the opposite side. It seemed he was feeling certain about winning the game as well, a satisfied smirk twisting his lips. I felt the butterflies erupt into the pit of my stomach as his intense, glinting eyes met my own, then forced myself to refocus on my main objective of shooting the little black ball into the pocket.

To my delight-and suprise that I had actually even managed to shoot it on my own- I sent the white pitching toward the black one smoothly, and with one hit as they knocked together, the friction sent it rolling into the pocket. I straightened up with a cocky grin, only to hear Edward burst out laughing at me.

"_What_?" I asked defensively, unable to stop smiling at myself as I went to line up the stick for my next shot, returning to his end of the table.

He yanked the cue stick from my hand silently and placed it back onto the table, then made a point of smirking right in front of my face as I looked up at him in confusion. "I win. Looks like you'll be dancing with me after all."

I felt my nostrils flare. "What?"

"You lose. It's a finished game if a person shoots the black 8 ball in a pocket, which you just did, so therefore that means that I've won."

He reached out and took my hand. I was speechless and felt more than a little cheated.

"H-how? Y-you never told me that!" I managed to choke out at him.

He leaned in as he put his other hand on the small of my back, and turned me away from the pool table toward the dancefloor. "I didn't say I was going to play fair." He chuckled softly again. "That's one of the things you should know about me, I play extremely dirty. One of my many faults is that I don't like losing... with anything."

I still found myself unable to speak, my mouth left gaping at him, as he led me over to the crowded dancefloor.

He turned me around so that I was looking into his eyes and with his hand that was pressed against my back, he pulled me closer, our other hands clasped tightly together. I couldn't seem to wrap my head around what had just happened... I lost the game, and so quickly?

"I can't say that cheating is one of your qualities that I admire," I admitted, still fuming.

He smiled widely at me as he took lead, spinning me around slowly. My anger at him died down as quickly as it had been sparked- I found it was impossible for me to be annoyed with him. My worries at dancing also seemed to evaporate; I found it was quite easier to move and less likely of me to trip when he was holding me and steering me the way he was. I had never been a dancer, ever. I'd always loathed dancing and it wasn't just merely because I had bad feet co-ordination.

But with Edward, I found I was quickly enjoying it, enjoying the chance to have him hold me in his arms, our bodies close together... Setting aside my fears, I allowed the moment to envelop me.

"I agree that wasn't very nice of me," he whispered down at me, looking guilty and the slightest bit embarrassed. "But then again, I would have done anything simply for the chance of seeing you dance with me. And I must say, you should let someone dance with you more often... "

I blushed, and swallowed as he spun us around. I cringed as I accidently stomped onto one of his shoes as he steered me but then he didn't seem to notice or if he did, he was acting as though he hadn't. As the song came to an end I stared at him, unsure of what to do, but his hand didn't loosen. He kept me flush against him and he began leading once again as a soft, romantic 80's song began to play again from the Jukebox.

After a while, I was astonished by how easier it became to dance with him. It seemed I was a fast-learner, because I no longer felt myself treading on him whenever he decided to do a quick and spontanous turn. It was nice that I no longer had to worry. I took everything as it came, letting him pull me along whichever way he decided to go.

"You never did answer my question before when we were down at the beach, Bella." He said it so softly against the backdrop of the music that I wasn't certain he had even talked or not. But as I looked up and met his eyes, there was no believing he hadn't. He was watching my face expectantly, clearly waiting for me to utter an answer.

"So you meant everything you said about me being your girlfriend?" I asked without thinking, through the music, unable to contain the surprise that seeped through my voice yet again.

He laughed, and then nodded very slowly.

"I meant every word, Bella. I want you to be my girlfriend more than I have ever wanted anything in my entire life frankly..."

As the song came to an end, Edward stopped moving. But I didn't take it as an invitation to seperate myself from him and, honestly I didn't want him to ever stop holding me. We just stood there through the silence, him peering down at me, his eyes searching deeply into my own for my reply to his question.

"But I've never been in a relationship before. I wouldn't know what to do." That was true and if it had been anyone other than Edward- maybe a younger boy- that I was talking to, I maybe would have went to greater lengths to hide my concerns and inadequacies to myself. But with Edward, it was different. He... seemed very understanding and hardly judgmental of anything. I felt in a way that I could say anything to him, and it wouldn't scare him off.

At least I hoped I could.

"You're reluctant to agree because you've never been in a relationship before?" He was surprised. Then for reasons I couldn't understand, he looked almost deeply relieved by it. "Is that all it is, or do you just not want to be my darling and you're too frightened you'd upset me?"

_Not want to be his darling... _I almost laughed out loud at his strange choice in words.

_"_It's not that I don't want to be your girlfriend, it actually sounds wonderful if I take the time to imagine it," I explained slowly after a moment, trying to pick my words with care. He looked confused, his brows thick and fierce in confusion. "It's just...why are you asking _me_? Why... couldn't you ask someone who would be more suited to you- someone with a lot more of experience with what you want?"

I wondered what he was thinking, in a panic, as he looked away from me for half a second. He looked as if he was thinking hard about something. "And... what exactly is it that you think I'd be wanting from you that you would feel required to have the experience in, Bella?"

I found myself staring into his green eyes, unable to word what I was trying to say. I couldn't believe he was even expecting me to say it out loud to him!

"You know, experience with..." I trailed off meaningfully, feeling my face go hot all of a sudden as his eyes bored down into mine with quick understanding at my words.

"Sex?" he asked uncertainly underneath his breath.

I fought the strong urge to hide my face childishly from him at the word he had just uttered, and nodded my head violently. There was no way in hell I would have been able to stomach uttering the word out loud myself, especially not to him.

He scoffed out loud, then leaned his face down closer to mine, so much so that I suddenly felt nervous at the close promixity he was putting between our faces. His nose was almost touching mine. "Bella, I may be older than you but I would never... _ever_ expect you to do something you weren't ready to do." His voice was husky and fierce under the seriousness of his tone. "I would never want you to get the impression that I'd be pressuring you in any way whatsoever when it comes to that if you did even happen to agree to be my girlfriend."

"Well, thank you for clearing that up. I guess I already knew that in a way," I said honestly, then looked away from him. I turned my head to the side, looking anywhere but at him. I couldn't believe I had even just suggested that he would even want to do that... stuff with me. It was so stupid! "Sorry. I'm stupid."

"It's not that I wouldn't ever want to do that with you..." I heard him mutter quickly through the akward silence that was now caged between us. "Maybe when you felt ready, or perhaps after we get married..." His voice trembled slightly with his uncertainty.

I couldn't seem to stop beating myself up over it; I knew he wasn't the type of guy to ever pressure me but... I winced.

"Ah," he sighed after a moment. "I understand what you're trying to hint at now. I'm so sorry." He moved his hand slowly from my back and stepped away from me. He stared down at his shoes, almost afraid to look at me. It killed me inside. Suddenly the distance he had put between us and the fact that he refused to even look at me made me feel even worse for insinuating something so wrongly of him.

"No, _I'm_ sorry. What am I saying? I, uh... I don't even _know_ what I'm saying." For the first time in my life, I was sincerely lost for words. I didn't know what I should say, or what I should do to repair the things that had just so stupidly fallen out of my mouth to him. And, because of it, I felt my eyes weaten with tears.

When he did manage to look up at me, I saw something similar to regret fill his eyes which was something I couldn't understand. I should be the one feeling filled up with regret here- not him!

"I didn't mean to make the assumption that you were like that. Jesus, I'm sorry." Before I knew it, hot tears were running down my cheeks and I felt my eyes start to sting from the mascara I was wearing.

_Why did I even say that? He was by no means the type of guy to pressure a girl into doing things she wasn't ready for! All he was asking was for me to be his girlfriend and yet, I assume something else entirely!_

Then, before I realized what was happening and before I could even make any sense of it, Edward had brought his hands up to my face, cupping it gently. "Bella, it's fine." He whispered softly. "You don't need to feel bad or cry over it. I can't exactly blame you for thinking that of me..." I couldn't bring myself to look up at his face. I was angry with myself. And feeling so stupid and cruel, even. He kept murmering words of apology and curse words at himself over it.

I felt his breath on my face as he breathed against it strenuosly in his attempt to comfort me. It felt amazingly cool against the heat of my face and my tears. When I finally forced myself to look at him, deeply apologetic for ruining our date, his hands were still on my face, and he looked as if he was trying to hold back tears himself, deeply pained.

I couldn't believe it.

_How could I ruin everything? Things had been going so well until I had opened my stupid, fat mouth!_

"I probably shouldn't have ever assumed you would want to be my girlfriend." He sighed loudly as he stared deeply into my eyes. The emotion I saw reflected in them were intense... unnerving. "I should have listened when you said about not believing in soul mates..." He let out a deep whoosh of breath. "It's just... it's too late for me. But I'm so sorry..." He nervously raised a trembling hand to wipe away the tears that were still coursing down my cheeks over my own stupidity. "I'll just take you home, and I'll let you go on as if we'd never met that day I offered you a ride in my car to keep you from the rain..." His tone was dejected.

I couldn't believe what he was saying. He felt bad when_ I_ was the one who deserved to feel bad here.

"If I could take it all back, reverse time somehow so that I'd never laid eyes on you, I would. Please understand that I would." His voice grew thick with emotion. "It may be too late for me now but at least it's not for you."

I stood there in the same spot for an immeasurable amount of time, trying to understand what he was saying and not figuring out anything, as he gathered he set of car keys and gestured toward the double doors of the bar to leave, just looking right at him. I was so confused, so... _angry_ with myself that I felt a loud sob break out from my chest.

I thought about Edward for a long moment before making my way to follow him out. I thought about myself, too. I was in the wrong here; I had acted like an adolescent when all he had tried to do was ask me out. And I wanted to be his girlfriend, every part of me loved the very idea and wanted it so very badly. I was in the wrong- and yet _he_ was the one apologizing, offering me comfort and sweet words when it should have been me doing the apologizing.

I felt physically drained as I eventually followed him out to where he was waiting by his car. I found him leaning on top of the hood, his head hanged downwards toward his feet. It was too sad, and I hated every part of it. I hated how our time together had been going so well, and yet I somehow had managed to mess it all up.

_And he was the one telling me he was sorry. He was the one telling me that he would walk out of my life just as quickly as he had come in... and because he thought that was what I had wanted?_

He didn't look up at first as I slowly approached his car, so I stood there quietly to watch him. He just sat there, resting against his car, shaking his head. I thought I heard him moan and realized that he was probably crying, too. Then he must have sensed me approaching slowly, because he looked up.

There was something about the expression on his face that haunted me. When his eyes looked back into mine, I could see every emotion coursing through them that matched my feelings entirely. He looked broken inside. And confused. And in a great deal of pain over the thought of taking me home and never seeing me ever again- exactly like I felt.

"Bella... I'll... I'll just take you home now..." He sighed, and I thought I heard a dry sob erupt from his mouth. "I'll try to leave you alone... It just... it won't be easy for me..."

I stared at him, hardly hearing anything he was saying. All I could seem to hear was the sound of my heart beating, loud and fast. I knew I would have to be the one to... to sort out this misunderstanding that had suddenly occured between the two of us. I just didn't quite know how without acting dramatically and so irresponcibly.

"No," I said fiercely. "I... I don't want this to end. Not yet. We don't even know each other and I... I want to know you." I shook my head as I felt the tears spill out again. "I do want to be your girlfriend Edward. I just... I feel like I'm not worthy. That you should probably be with someone older... someone with more experience. Someone who has seen the world- like you! And I... I never meant to insult you by insinuating that I thought you only wanted to be with me for... sex or something."

His breathing was heavy as he simply stared at me. I didn't want to think anymore. It was only telling me lies, doing more damage to what I really wanted. And what I really wanted was to be Edward's girlfriend. To get to know him inside and out, and all that other stuff...

He sniffed loudly after I was finished. Then he slowly pushed off his car and took a step toward me. "I can't let you go anyway. It's too hard, you've changed me beyond repair, Bella." His voice was strained with emotion, defeated, but his eyes were soft. As though all about our little misunderstanding was forgiven. "I know you don't believe in soul mates and what not, but... you're the one for me. And I know in time, you'll feel exactly the same way for me too."

My heart welled up over the sweetness of what he was saying, though I couldn't quite comprehend it.


	8. The End of Bella's Innocence

I get so nervous whenever I go to post a new chapter, ah! :-) But I thank you all so much for your responce to this story! Hope this chapter is okay. I may need to change the rating after this. :0

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><p><em>Chapter 8<em>

Hours I'd spent able to sleep after thinking of my day spent with Edward: Less than 5.

The number of coffee cups I'd drank in the morning before heading off to school to keep me awake and alert: More than 2.

When I woke in the morning just after 7.30, I hopped out of bed with a slight groan as I turned on the light to get dressed for school. It was too bright. I dressed quickly in my school uniform- gray skirt, stockings, white shirt and a gray blazer- then spent over half an hour downing cups of coffee over my cereal for breakfast. Then I brushed through my hair that was still slightly tangled from jumping into bed when it was still damp last night after I had slipped into a quick warm shower as soon as I had arrived home from our date, then pulled it up into a messy ponytail.

As I brushed my teeth, the most cheesiest smile stretched across my face as I peered up at my reflection from in the bathroom mirror above the basin. Yesterday had been so unreal; I had never felt so spoilt with having indulged in delicious seafood, so pampered by sweet words and so wanted and cherished before.

Even though we had only spent two full days together, getting to know each other, I already felt as if Edward was someone I could really see myself spending many years in a relationship with. It was bizarre of me to feel that way so suddenly over someone, to say the least.

Wetting a damp piece of washcloth with warm water, I rubbed my eyes with it, trying to remove the remnants of mascara that had smeared underneath them from becoming so emotional that I got teary over Edward saying that he would take me home early from our day together and that he would try to never see me again.

And while that part of our time together had been rough, I was unapologetically pleased by the outcome of yesterday. Now I was officially Edward's girlfriend and him the first boyfriend I had ever had the pleasure of having. It took a while to get used to.

I saw that I had two unread text messages on my phone as I strolled on down the street toward school. It was no surprise who they were from. They were from Edward. One was pleasantly polite, thanking me once again for spending the whole day with him in Port Angeles instead of heading to school.

In the next one, he had written that he was hating the anticipation of wondering when our next time spent together would be. Funnily enough, I had to agree with him there. I grinned to myself. We hadn't made any plans to see each other again- and the idea of not knowing when was really killing me. He also wrote in extreme detail that he was already missing my company and that he was not looking forward to spending the day cramped up inside his office where he worked as a financial advisor. He wrote that he most definitely would be thinking of me all day- and yet again, I found myself agreeing with him.

I knew I wouldn't be able to focus much on school work. Not when the events of yesterday had seemed to pop up constantly inside my head, flickering mercilessly by in my mind.

In English class, it really was no surpise that I found myself thinking of him yet again when the teacher had us all in groups discussing the latest book we were reading in class. Of course, it might have been harder than it had to be merely because the main protagonist vying for the woman's affection in the novel we were discussing went by the name of Edward, too.

At lunch I spent my time in the cafeteria, bound and determined to focus on completing an assignment that was due for Biology next lesson, jotting down answers in my messy handwriting while Rosalie looked over me, gossiping about something that had recently happened to her when she had spent the night at her boyfriends' apartment a few days ago.

After ditching school yesterday, I found I already had a lot of assignments due that I hadn't even barely started on yet. It left me in a frantic mood- I was never one to finish assignments at the last minute. I wondered if it would severely alter my grades or not. It was nerve-wracking contemplating about ever recieving a grade lower than a B-, so I took advantage of the half-hour lunch break to cram hard.

At the end of the day, once the shrilling school bell had at last signalled end of the day, I rushed to the crowded lockerbay area, swinging mine open and shoving all my text books into my backpack. I was sorely determined on heading home straight away and downing a few more cups of coffee as I focused all my attention and energy onto studying. I guess I really felt guilty about missing school yesterday and failing to keep up, but I couldn't bring myself to regret the decision I had made to be with Edward- of course, I couldn't!

My plans at heading straight home after school went unnoticed when sure enough, he was waiting for me outside the school parking lot, ready to drive me home.

He looked cooly immaculate in dark tinted sunglasses, a white business shirt, two of the top buttons on the collar undone and dark gray trousers as he leaned against the side of his car. He must have knocked off work early to meet me after school, then. If I looked hard enough, I was positive I saw a cigarette dangling between his parted lips. _Still a smoker then_, though it was clear he tried to hide the habit from me every chance he got...

He straightened up against his car and peered over the students as his eyes fell onto me, then I saw him wave at me from above the sea of students in the parking lot. I felt my body tense and shift from a relaxed position into a timid one, my shoulders slightly slumped underneath the weight of the heavy backpack I was wearing. My breathing accelerated and I felt the hairs on the nape of my neck stand on edge over the quick discovery of him standing outside, waiting for me by his car.

For a moment I felt stunned, unable to believe that he was there. But then I realized he had picked me up and dropped me off home from school on more than two occasions already, and I wasn't complaining. If anything, it made me downright relieved to see him again.

I noticed him watching my legs, following their movement as I strolled on to meet him by his car. Maddeningly, I felt a blush creep from my face down to my chest over it. I thanked God I had my legs half-covered, the dark stockings pulled up midway toward my thighs so he couldn't have seen anything else of me. Unfortunately, my knobbly-knees were still revealed for show and I found myself instantly hating them that moment. He must have noticed that I had felt uncomfortable catching him ogling my legs so openly from across the parking lot, because his eyes immediately shot up to my face and he licked his lips, wettening them a little.

I tightened the straps of my backpack across my shoulderblades as I finally reached him across the road. "Hey," I said, only because I couldn't manage anything else, I was so nervous.

It seemed he was just as nervous, too. He cleared his throat before speaking through a small, strained smile, "Hello. How was your day?"

"Yeah, it was all right," I mumbled half-heartedly. "A bit boring if I'm completely honest." He chuckled quietly at that, then stepped to the side closest to the road where cars were flying by past us. I couldn't shake the feeling that he was trying to be courteous, shielding me. He asked if he could take my school bag for me and flustered, I allowed him to, handing it carefully to him as we walked quietly toward the door on the passenger side of his car.

"I knew I probably should have let you know that I was coming here to pick you up after you finished, but then I've been doing that twice already so I decided to just make a habit of it." He laughed, and it sounded so carefree and real. "I knew you'd see me first thing when you reached the outside of the parking lot any way." He shrugged, then opened the car door the slightest inch, only to slip my backpack through the crack and plop it onto the red vinyl seat.

"Besides how could I resist anything that gives me the opportunity to see you again," he added softly.

I felt myself blushing.

"Well, thank you, I really appreciate it," I said, smiling up at him pleasedly. "And I'm really happy to see you again after yesterday. Did you knock off work early to meet me here?"

I hadn't really asked him much about his job, even though it left me intrigued. But then again, everything about Edward seemed to interest me. On our first date together, I had learned that Edward dealt with insurance policies and wills... and not much else.

"I did finish early, yes. I had my last client just after one o'clock so I decided to leave early. There was really no use lingering around in my office, I would have been bored out of my brain." He smiled down at me tenderly, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Besides my father can be quite understanding. He let me head off early."

"Your father works with you?" There was no denying that I felt genuinely intrigued over this new piece of information.

He nodded. "My father was the one that had pulled a few strings into getting his boss to offer me the job," he explained to me softly. My breathing spiked once again as he raised a hand tentatively to run his thumb along the curved hollow of my throat. I hoped he hadn't noticed the way I trembled automatically underneath his chilling touch.

With his delicate touch, just like that, images of yesterday seemed to flood into my head; the way he had leaned forward in the sand ever so slowly to press his lips against my cheek when we were down at the beach... the way he had quoted Romeo's passage to Juliet word-for-word sensually at me from underneath his breath. I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face because of it.

"Would you care to explain to me why you're smiling right now?" he asked quite self-consciously, obviously perplexed by the change that had come across my face from remembering.

Too many memories of yesterday were flickering so fastly by inside my head that I was answering without even really processing what I was saying.

"I was just thinking back to yesterday on the beach and how you quoted Romeo to me. It was so romantic and sexy. I haven't been able to get it out of my mind!"

_Oh God, did I really just say that?_

"You made me feel so loved and spoiled yesteday. I really liked it even though it _was_ maybe a little bit too much!"

_Shut up, Bella! A thank you for __last night was probably suffic__ent enough!_

"I think it was the best time I've ever spent- with anyone. I really like the feeling of your hands on me!"

_Okay, too much! You're saying too much!_

My hand went up to mouth as I gasped out loud. My body began trembling underneath the sheer embarrassment and shock of what I had just said to him. Edward stilled for half a minute... just staring, his fingers still on my neck as he processed what I had just said. I had only meant to say that I had an exceptionally wonderful time with him, that I really enjoyed spending the day with him and then there I was, saying too much and revealing too much. It was only the last bit that had embarrassed me the most- how I had revealed how much I enjoyed the feeling of his hands on me, touching every part of me, holding me...

A minute later, shock gradually came across his face. Then he gave out a surprisingly delighted laugh. "I thought I was the only one." He shook his head, blinking down at me in disbelief.

I was confused, and majorly so by his responce.

"I thought I was the only one to feel that way." He looked at me with such sincerity that I couldn't doubt what he was telling me. "Half the time, I feel as though I need to keep my distance from you in case it gets too much for you to handle. When really all I want to do is touch you and feel your skin against mine."

I could tell he was being completely honest with me and I understood exactly what he was saying because those words were my exact feelings toward him! Suddenly it seemed so true, more than ever, that he always felt reluctant to pull his hand away from me or to move away from me and create a considerate amount of distance between us. It _was_ really because he didn't want to stop touching me, just as I had originally thought.

A bizarre feeling of contentment stirred within.

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><p><em>Several Days Later...<em>

I didn't have to think about it. No, it was not a hard decision to make really. I would have let him do it even if I wasn't even ready mainly because I liked him and trusted him so much.

I found it hard to concentrate as Edward drove me home from school for the third time in a row this week. No matter how ridiculous it had seemed, I found myself constantly in a hazy state of mind because whenever Edward was driving, he would reach over the console to touch me.

The first time it had happened, he had reached out tentatively to hold one of my hands which were folded in my lap, to squeeze it while he was driving along the ruler-straight highway toward my house. The second time it happened, he had reached out to stroke my leg. This time it was almost something I had begun to expect naturally of him whenever he took the time to drive me home from school.

Sometimes I would find myself eager to reach out and touch him, too. It was out of this pure, unexplainable but insatiable need to touch him. Mainly just to reassure myself- even though I didn't quite know what from.

This time, on the drive home his hand found its way into the centre of my lap, fingers picking at the material of my long stockings. The feeling of his large hand and smooth fingers resting against my skin... was the most amazing feeling I had ever known. I had to take in a deep unsteady breath as my heart rate quickened.

When we reached my house, I peered outside the window as Edward parked the car opposite to find Charlie's cruiser hadn't been parked conspiciously in the driveway like it had for the past few days. He must have been working late down at the station, I realized.

He seemed to notice Charlie's cars absence too because without hesitation, his hand started roaming, insistent and needy. There was nothing sexual about our touching, really. Nothing physical. I only relished the feeling of him touching me, the constant need he seemed to have to touch me. And it seemed I shared that need too, and strongly.

Tonight that non-sexual touching seemed to turn into something not so innocent although I don't think either one of us knew it would turn out that way to start with.

He started muttering and whispering phrases that I didn't catch quite completely. I only heard words like_ Bella_, _beautiful, _and_ warm skin _in various combinations. My body and mind was frantic to experience a new kind of touching so, unbuckling the frayed shoulder harness and letting it slide back into position, I leaned forward in my seat and slipped my white cotton underwear off past my knees with two trembling hands. The elastic material bunched up around my legs.

It was something I felt I needed to do...this aching need inside of me that I felt I needed to experience from him-and_ only_ him. I'd never felt that way about anyone else before; willing myself to open up and become vulnerable to another human being. If it had been another boy other than Edward, I probably would have refused straight away

But I was more than a little desperate to show him that I was not the inexperienced little high school girl I probably seemed to be, who wouldn't allow herself to be open to the opportunity he was offering. And it seemed he needed this, he wanted to give me this too and painstakingly so.

"I... I have to do this." He whispered desperately, breathing heavily through the silence. "I'm so sorry... please forgive me for doing this to you..."

I was panting at the strained, raspy words he had just uttered. While I couldn't see him through the darkness, I could feel him. His hand sandwiched in between my thighs and he pushed his way up further. I was torn in that instance with two raging emotions conflicting. One part of me, the dominant part, was so very reluctant to let him touch me and pleasure me, and automatically my whole body tensed against the car seat, refusing to give his icy hand easy access.

"Bella," he growled. I heard him give out a jagged breath. "I promise I won't hurt you. But I...I need you to let me do this." His voice cracked with the desperation and need he was feeling inside. "I'll be gentle."

Still, his words went straight to my core, sending a rush of warm, sticky moisture between my legs. His hand was clutching my legs so hard, trying to push them open that my skin felt as though it was bruising. With a shaky breath, I surrendered willingly and seperated my legs, parting them wide open for him now that I was positive he was just as desperate for this as I was.

I needed this. I needed to feel him. I needed to feel... _something_.

I leaned back, and closed my eyes as I felt his hand go in deeper, enjoying the way it felt. Him touching me... _there, _was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I didn't want it to have to stop anytime soon.

I was vaguely aware of where we were, still in his car, across the road from my house in the blinding darkness as I felt his fingers make their way up, brushing against the mound of soft, small pubic hair there until his fingers went inside of me. I felt myself clench around his fingers, felt every nerve spasm as he rubbed his fingers against me.

Again, it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It was erotic and so nerve-wracking at the same time to be letting him touch me like this. I was not only nervous because it was the first time I had ever let this happen from a boy, but also because I didn't want this to be it. I didn't want things to be over between us come tomorrow morning. But then I decided in that moment I didn't care. One moment of vulnerability like this would have been enough.

He was whispering my name over and over as I felt the warm moisture pool between my legs again. I squeezed my legs together against his hand, just for the friction it presented. I gasped out loud from the sheer pleasure of his hand rubbing against me, inside of me, my chest heaving as I panted out small breaths. My pulse was racing but it was nothing compared to the wondrous sensations of his fingers stroking me.

"Bella..." His voice was rough. "Bella...light of my life..."

I'd never experienced an orgasm before. Heck, I was pretty uncomfortable with anything near at the mention of sex. I'd seen the topic in many romantic movies, on television shows, and assumed that they were vastly overeacting in the movies when it came to orgasms. They would squeal as they fell back on their pillows, or yell at the top of their lungs even.

But now I think I almost understood where they were coming from. It felt so good, so wonderful. I was sure my face and chest had broken out into a slick sheen of sweat as his fingers curled inside of me as I rode out the orgasm.

"Bella... fire of my loins... my soul..." He was panting in a husky voice which I think held more of an affect on me than what he was doing to me with his fingers.

After I felt myself clenching up underneath the intensity of it all, I had to bite my tongue to prevent the several astonished curse words to fall from my mouth over the amazingness of the experience, my body shuddering. Once it was over, I whimpered at the sudden loss of contact as he removed his hand away from me. But he wasn't done yet, it would seem.

"I need to taste you..." He was murmering. "I need to know if you taste as good as you smell..."

I was still trying to control my breathing as I felt him lean forward over toward me in his seat. He was still whispering my name, with a new hint of urgency, and I managed to see him through the darkness at his closeness. His eyes were heavy lidded with what resembled lust, and they looked black.

He almost pushed my body into overdrive as he lowered his head between my legs. My hands found their way to his soft hair and I fisted it so hard that I heard him whimper from somewhere in the middle of my outstretched legs. His hands ghosted at my thighs as he lowered himself. I almost screamed out loud as his tongue came into contact with me.

"Oh my God!" I cried, unable to control myself.

I gasped out loud at what he was doing to me, what he was making my body feel for him. It was unlike anything... ever.

"Bella..." I heard him whisper in a low voice, from right underneath me. "You taste even better than I imagined." My heart was pounding in my ears as he raised his head out from my legs only to look up at me, his smile triumphant and beatific. "Not as good as the taste your blood would be however, of course."

I found myself blushing. I didn't know whether to take his comment as a compliment or not; sometimes he would say some of the most strangest things, things that other guys probably wouldn't have ever dared to say to me. But I found that was one of the main reasons why I liked him so much.

I wanted to close my eyes but I couldn't break the contact we had just maintained through the darkness.

As he eventually moved back into his seat, I was aware of myself feeling completely drained to the point of marvellous exhaustion. The sensations Edward had just given me were almost too hard to bear and, before I knew it, my whole body was slumped over in the seat and I felt hot tears well up in my eyes. I didn't exactly know why I was crying but I was positive they were tears of overwhelmed happiness.

"What's wrong, darling?" His voice sounded panicked as soon as a pitiful sob erupted from my mouth, and he stroked my hair. "Did I hurt you just then, or offend you in some way?"

The very idea that I was hurt or offended, after what he had just made me experience, almost caused me to burst out laughing. "No, of course not..." I told him quickly in reassurance, wiping away at my eyes hurriedly. "It's just... this has never happened to me before, obviously..." I sniffed loudly. "Its just... it was... amazing..." My voice trembled and broke at the last bit.

He wrapped his arms around me tightly in a tender embrace, only causing me to tremble even more underneath the weight of what had just happened. I started sobbing again as he pressed his open mouth against the top of my head.

"If you thought it was amazing, then why are you crying?" His voice sounded sceptical, and concerned. And maybe he should have been concerned.

"I have... no idea..."

I felt him shake silently in laughter.

"Are we still..." I was nervous to ask."Are we still, you know, together? Boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Bella, even this would never change my feelings for you." He said, and he sounded deadly sincere. "This is like... a new stepping-stone for us. And you've made me realize something that I never considered before."

"Realize what?" I asked, relaxing a little in his embrace.

"You've made me realize that I _do_ need people." He sighed. "That I've been trying for so long to keep a distance between myself and other people. Usually I am so frightened to let myself become close to others but you make me want to be different."

I thought about what he said in silence for a long moment while he was holding me. I realized that I was exactly the same way. Too fearful to let anyone in, too shy. Though the way he said it made me feel as though his situation was something entirely different, something... unrelated to my own feelings of inadequacy inside.


	9. His Girlfriend, Belonging, Possession

I own absolutely nothing to do with Twilight but no suprises there :-)

Thank you all so much for your reviews, alerts and favorites. It always makes me so relieved whenever I check my email to see that I've got notifications finding that people are actually interested in reading! Really hope you like this chapter. Thanks again guys!

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><p><em>Chapter 9<em>

Edward helped me out of my seat, looking directly into my eyes. Without hesitation, his hands were on me, sliding up along my bare shoulders, cradling my face. He leaned down and captured my lips in a kiss. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him closer as he deepened the kiss. I would never, ever tire of kissing him. Each time was different, but always possessed the same urgency and passion as the one before it.

He reluctantly pulled away from my mouth with a deep sigh and led me to the line that was now gradually gathering to enter _Ivy Leaves_, one of the only available underage bars in Washington. It was the first time I had ever been before, and I knew I had most likely been one of the youngest to go.

As we stood in line for several minutes waiting, I noticed Edward looked tense and on-guard as he peered around us. I didn't quite know what it was that had made him feel so.

It was a cool Forks evening, the sky a clear gray. According to the weather forecast on the evening news, it was bound to be a windy night without rain. I found myself shivering against the breeze and felt absurdly happy as Edward took advantage of the moment to wrap his arms around me to warm me up slightly. I relaxed against him, enjoying the moment that had presented itself.

"Have I told you yet how lovely you look tonight?" he whispered in my ear as he rubbed the sleeves of his leather jacket lightly across my bare arms, creating a warm friction.

I accepted his compliment half-heartedly, only because I felt too self-conscious in what I was wearing to. I was wearing a light blue sleeveless sequined top and a pair of light gray jeans. It wasn't anything too special but I felt sincerely flattered by him taking the time to compliment me on it.

As we finally flowed inside along with a mass of other people, Edward asked if I'd like a drink. Since I wasn't allowed to have alcohol, I settled on a Cola while I was unable to shake off the feeling that we were somehow being watched. Sure enough, I was right. My skin prickled as a young woman watched the pair of us from across the room, indignant at the sight.

She was blonde, tall and beautiful in a very otherworldly way, like some kind of Russian model. As Edward dissapeared up over to the bar to buy us our drinks I noticed her eyes follow his movement. She seemed wary of him for some reasons I couldn't place. I immediately was under the impression that she must have known Edward in some way or another. Nobody usually looked at strangers the way that she did Edward but then, maybe she just thought he was extremely attractive? If that was so, I couldn't exactly blame her.

I saw her gray eyes scan the room briefly before they fell back onto me. When she noticed my looking back at her, I was stunned when she lunged out of her seat to bolt into the nearest restroom. I didn't know what her problem was with me but it seemed something was bothering her, clearly.

I glanced over my shoulder back at where Edward was standing tall at the crowded bar. It seemed many people were pushing in, eager to get served. I knew it would have probably taken him a long time to get back to me so I decided to take the moment for a quick bathroom break.

I was astonished to find the girl that had made a point of glaring daggers at me and Edward sitting on one of the sinks, crying. A small brunette woman was standing in front of her speaking softly and stroking her hair. I felt a gnawing sense of pity for her as I wondered if she was crying over the fact Edward and I had been holding hands, clearly together at the underage club tonight.

The sound of her sobs echoed off the dank yellow tiles and around the small space of the ladies bathroom as they both peered over at me at my hesitant entrance. The blonde haired girl looked like a mess, her face red and puffy and her eyeliner smeared underneath her eyelids from bawling.

She made a point of looking me up and down as the dark haired girl went to approach me. I felt my throat tighten as she very nearly had me cornered by the wall. I didn't know what to think of her; I didn't know whether she would start hitting me or not in defense of her clearly heart-broken friend.

"Hey," she said quietly. "What's your name?"

I hesitated, wondering whether I ought to tell her the truth or not. I didn't know why she would care to ask what my name was. "Bella," I said after several seconds, my voice thick with uncertainty.

She looked over at her friend for the briefest of a second before staring back at me. There was a hint of both sadness and pity in her eyes. "Bella, we saw you outside with Edward Masen. Are you seeing him?" I swallowed dryly before nodding. "I know it's probably not my business to say- but it's Tanya's business." The blonde girl gazed over at me at the sudden usage of her name but didn't say anything to me. "I feel like it's my business to let you know, just to throw caution to the wind."

I responded without thinking. "What are you talking about?" I didn't really want to know but in a way I felt this raging compulsion to.

"Well, Tanya and Edward were seeing each other a few years back. She didn't end it, he did. He just broke it off unexpectedly, told her he wanted nothing more to do with her. He didn't even apologize for breaking her heart."

I didn't know what to say about what she was telling me so I merely stared at her, probably even gaping.

Her expression was pitiing but also honest. "I guess I'm saying this because I don't want you to get hurt by him like Tanya was. He's bad news to any girl. He treated her badly, didn't show up or call when he said he would. I say she was better off without him before all the heartbreak started, she doesn't listen. You'd be a fool not to listen. You know what I'm saying, Bella?"

_Still... I didn't know what to say._ I was speechless but also felt thankful deep down inside for the pre-warning.

She went on in a disgusted voice, troubled. "He should know better not to screw around with a pretty young girl like you. It's not... safe!" She turned back to her friend, who was still in an unconsolable state, her heels clicking loudly against the tiles. "I just hope things don't end badly for you. I hope he will control himself when things get out of hand."

She didn't say anything else, just patted her friend on the back gently as her sobs started again. I took this as my invitation to leave, and stormed out.

I felt nervous after what she had just said to me. Too nervous. My heart rate quickened as my eyes sought Edward out. He was over leaning across the bar, still trying to buy a non-alcoholic drink for me. Halfway through leaning in closer to the bartender to relay the order, his eyes glanced over at me briefly.

I couldn't believe that he was the same Edward Masen who had supposedly broken this girls' heart. I wished it hadn't been him, but then really there was no denying the fact that it _was_ him. There was only one Edward Masen in Forks Washington, and he was it.

I couldn't even take in my surroundings properly, the busy line of people ordering their drinks as he carefully squeezed through them with a long glass of Cola in his hand. Even though the club was undeniably busy, it was as if everyone else ceased to exist except him. He was always the focal point in my line of sight and I realized then that it was probably because I never bothered to take the time to look at anyone else but him.

As he eventually reached me through the crowd, he held out the full glass to me. I merely nodded my thanks before drinking it down whole. It wasn't thirst that I was finding myself dying to quench but the constant buzzing of nerves in the pit of my stomach. The Cola was icy and I found myself shivering as I gulped down the last mouthful.

Edward was staring at me, deeply into my eyes. He leaned in to speak over the music, "Thirsty, darling?"

I pretended I was and looked away from him, nodding. I was afraid to meet his eyes out of fear that he would notice. I couldn't have him noticing something was up. I just couldn't get what the brunette girl had said about him out of my mind.

I felt him lean in again, only to speak loudly in my ear, "Is something wrong?"

His hand slid down the bare arm closest to his side in a comforting embrace. He ran his fingers from my shoulderblade down along to where the very ends of my fingertips met. It tickled slightly and I felt the goosebumps that had broken out from swallowing the Cola down so fast make their reappearance by the trickling iciness of his fingertips. I don't think anything could have ever compared to the sensations experienced whenever he touched me. I found myself lost momentarily in the soothing experience of it all.

Deciding I couldn't put it off any longer without seeming as though I was ignoring him, I leaned forward on both tiptoes to meet his ear, answering back, "No, I'm fine. I'm all good. Thanks for asking."

"Bella," I heard him sigh loudly in my ear. He pulled his head back to look at me, his eyes dark and searching through the bouncing glow of lights. He reached up and took my face between his hand softly, dragging his thumb across my chin. He leaned down again, this time putting his mouth directly over my ear. His lips were so soft and gentle as they brushed against me. "I can tell when something is bothering you. What is it?"

"It's just... I went to use the ladies bathroom and this girl was crying," I responded quickly through the music, though I wasn't certain I was speaking loud enough for him to hear past the pulsating beats that were breaking out around the club from the music. "Well, her friend cornered me and told me a few things about you..."

There was a moment of silence on his end, which I assumed was because he was thinking what I'd just admitted to him through. "Like what?" he asked against my ear, his voice rough with both curiosity and confusion.

"Just that you were in a relationship with her friend and that you broke it off so suddenly that you left her heartbroken, and that that's how you do things." I moved my head away from him, looking ahead of us, though not really seeing anything of interest. I didn't want him to feel as if I was going to pry him for details on his past relationship- it was clearly none of my business anyway.

When I stole a quick peek into his direction, I found that he too was peering out past the crowd, running his long fingers through his hair while he digested what I had told him. I tried not to get too distracted by his fingers, the very same fingers that had touched and stroked me heavenly in his car barely two nights ago while my father was out.

When he looked back over at me, he took in a deep breath and then exhaled loudly. As he bent back over to talk to me again, I felt his hand on my back. "I never once told you that I was a saint, Bella. I'd like to think that I'm human like every other darn person in this place." I heard his loud, rough voice crack with emotion. "I may have done some ridiculous, heartless things back then... but I'd like to think that I'm changing into a better person. At least, I'm trying to change."

I was caught off-guard by what he was saying, and quickly turned my head to look him directly in the eyes. I never expected to make him feel bad or hurt by telling him the truth of what I had just endured in the ladies toilet's barely fifteen minutes ago.

His eyes were shining black in the half-light, slightly wet and fierce with what resembled both remorse and guilt.

"No, no," I said apologetically, desperate for him to not think I was blaming him for anything that had just happened. "It's none of my business. You don't have to tell me what happened if you don't want to, it just... it surprised me that she would tell me that when really I had no idea you had even been in a serious relationship before we had met. I mean, you never told me that... clearly you didn't want to."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him shake his head violently at my words. "Bella, I've done a lot of terrible things until that rainy afternoon when I met you. I did some extremely unlikeable things... including treating a few girls like my own personal play-toys because they were simply there to let me take advantage of them." His voice trembled, and he gave out a shaky sigh. "I was wrecked, blasted, damned to hell... for all the things I'd done right up until the very moment I met you."

He reached over again to cup my face softly into his hand and as I forced myself to look into his eyes, his thumb sweeped lightly along the curve of my lips. His expression was unnervingly profound with the confession he had just uttered to me, his eyes glistening ferociously.

"And if I had met you back then before all of those other girls had came into the picture, there is no doubt whatsoever in my mind that I would have acted differently because I would have found _you_ then." My heart swelled up over the sound of pure desperation in his trembling voice. "Like I said before, you're the absolute one for me... and if I had met you then, then there probably wouldn't have been such a lengthy list of women that I'd left mistreated in the ranks."

_Lengthy list of women... _My head swarmed, leaving me feeling light-headed and dizzy over the sentence.

Before I even had time to think his admission through properly and gain any sense of it, he had pulled his mouth onto mine and was kissing me almost reverently. It left me confused and almost frightened inside and while I desired nothing more than to respond to his kiss in every way, I knew I couldn't do that peacefully without gaining full understanding of what he was telling me.

He whimpered as, palm outwards, I pushed him back gently to disengage our mouths. Instead, he wrapped his arms almost excruciatingly tight around my waist and pulled me to him, our bodys flush together, and my breath hitched painfully in my throat as he kissed my cheek several times, his breathing ragged and desperate against my skin, then slowly followed along my jaw, leaving a trail of goosebumps in the midst of it all.

"Edward." His name came out of my mouth like a sigh. "Can we please head outside to somewhere quiet where we can actually talk?" I was breathless, panting and gasping for air.

"I'm not letting go of you." His voice came out low and strained, muffled as he spoke softly against my neck. "Never, Bella." I wondered idly if there was some kind of double meaning to him saying that. But that didn't matter right now.

"Outside," I repeated again, more firmly this time. I pushed him away from me gently, this time succeeding. I tried to forget the dissapointment I immediately felt deep inside over the loss of him no longer holding me to him.

"Fine." His voice was raspy, thick with annoyance. "Let's go outside, then." His breathing was fast and jagged, his eyes coal black through the flickering lights as he stared back at me as I started pushing my way through the crowd toward the exit.

I didn't think his eyes ever left me once as we finally managed to get through the swarming crowd, and outside the building. Once we did manage to slip through, his hands found mine almost instantly and he clasped our hands together as we walked. I could still hear him panting right behind me.

"We're outside. What did you want to talk about?"

He fell slowly behind as I went on two steps ahead of him, though I couldn't get too far with the way he was clinging onto my hand. I felt his other hand come up across my back, always touching me and never stopping, running his finger up and down the curvature of my spine repetitively. I began shivering, merely out of habit.

"_Bella_," he sighed very seriously after a moment, and I turned my head back to look at him. He raised an eyebrow expectantly, then prompted me on quietly. "You wanted to talk to me outside away from the loud music?"

I was overcome with sudden nerves. I didn't exactly know how to ask him.

"Yes, well, about what you said inside..." I started, unsure of how to word it.

"Yes?"

I took a needed gulp of air before continuing. "Well, I was wondering... how many girlfriends it was that you have had exactly?"

Something flickered onto his face over the question. "Ah, well..." He looked just as nervous as I felt. "I had around four girlfriends but... those were merely trial and error. The first one failed completely, and I ruined it utterly over a bloody mishap. But the others were merely over because of this feeling left lingering inside of me. You see, I was always left feeling incomplete in the relationships that I've had." His lips pursed together as he thought his words though. "Something was always missing everytime I jumped into a relationship but I never knew what it was- until I met you." He smirked down at me.

I swallowed, eyeing him suspiciously. "What did I have to do with any of it?"

"Everything," he said in a deep throaty voice as he grinned down at me. "I never knew what it was that I was missing. Some vital puzzle piece, or key that made me willing enough to try. To _really_ try, Bella. And that vital piece is you."

I felt my face go hot at his words. _What on earth is he saying? Oh what the hell, it's the sweetest thing anybody has ever said to me!_

"Everything... _everything_ I am, Bella. It's yours." He took my hand gently and pressed it to his crotch as a way of stressing his point. I almost let a gasp slip from my mouth. I could feel his genitals straining through the dark material of his trousers. He was aroused. "I give my whole entire being over to you completely and _you_ alone...but... I need to know it's the same for you."

I wanted him to know I felt the same way in return. I _needed_ him to know with such aching desperation, only I didn't know how to make a point of it the way he did. Tentatively, I reached out and took his hand, then placed it palm-open flat over my chest. I didn't know if he could feel the way my heart quickened but I was hoping he could, as a way of showing what he did to me physically.

"Can you feel what you do to me?" I questioned, even though it felt the slightest bit cheesy of me to ask. I heard him take in an unsteady breath as his eyes met mine intently.

"Of course I feel it." His voice was as quiet and soft as a wistful sigh. "It has become the most vital thing, but..." He sighed. "I need to hear you say what you are to me, otherwise I won't be able to believe it." He leaned closer toward my face. "I need to hear that you understand what you are to me."

I realized I was holding my breath. "I'm... your girlfriend..." It was more of a question than an answer. I almost laughed out loud as Edward rolled his eyes at me dramatically.

"No. I need to hear you say that you're mine, Bella." He raised my hand and pressed the back of it to his lips gently. "That every delightful part of you is mine." He pressed his parted lips to my knuckles this time. I felt a blush coming on because of it and I was positive he noticed. "I need to hear you say that you belong to me... that you want to be with me..."

"I _do_ want to be with you and only you," I told him reassuringly. And I had meant it at that moment. What I really wanted to say was that I felt I wanted to be with him _forever_ but... forever was an awfully long time. And I didn't want to frighten him away by coming off too strongly.

I didn't want to feel this way about anyone else but him. I didn't want to be this... close to any other boy but him. For as long as we had together. I just wasn't sure how long a length of time it would be, and I didn't want to waste precious moment dwelling on that fact.


	10. Jealous Guy

_Hope you enjoy this chapter. Please let me know! Thank you all so much for your amazing reviews, I love reading them!_

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><p><em>Chapter 10<em>

While I admitted Michael Newton was cute in a bizarrely ordinary way, he was not Edward.

As soon as the shrilling bell went off in English class we all gathered our things. Michael was following right behind me straight away, calling out to me. I lingered behind to talk to him. He instantly began asking me about the assignment on Jane Eyre, the book we were currently studying and dissecting in class, and if I had managed to complete it yet.

I fell behind as we squeezed our way out through the double doors, chatting about boring things. Nothing exactly all that exciting or note-worthy. Halfway through our conversation, he reached out a hand to place it on my shoulder. I immediately felt uncomfortable at his unfamiliar touch. Pathetic to say the least, his hand was not Edward's and I didn't like the feeling of it against my skin. Without thinking I shrugged his hand off. But he hardly seemed to notice. As we said our goodbyes, I peered ahead of me through the parking lot. I already knew what- or _who_- I was looking for as soon as I did it...

My heart felt as though it had fallen out of my chest all of a sudden.

_Edward._

Edward's piercing green eyes were staring directly into mine. At first, I felt unbelievably happy to see him, as I always felt whenever he came to pick me up from school, until I realized he looked angry. Why was he angry? I continued to look at him past the students filling their way slowly into the parking lot. His breathing looked heavy, his chest heaving underneath his deep exhales and inhales. His nostrils flared slightly and I realized his hands were clenched up into fists at his sides. I quickly realized he wasn't only just angry however, he was furious.

_This couldn't possibly have anything to do with the fact that I was talking to Michael Newton about our assignment just then_, I thought to myself, naively.

I watched in bewilderment as he tilted his head to the side, his eyes following Michael Newton's retreating form as he made his way leisurely past the opening of the wire gates, then he made a start toward him. Michael Newton didn't notice his staring, of course. He was absently peering down at the ground as he walked. Edward's face turned gradually, from combined anger to a steely resolve. All the air seemed to leave my lungs as I watched him approach Michael and I suddenly felt anxious, though I didn't know why. I didn't understand why the idea of Edward going over to Michael to talk to him made me feel uneasy inside, why it could possibly give me the slightest feeling of shaking apprehension.

But I just knew something very bad was bound to happen. _And it seemed I was right._

He gripped Michael by the shoulder, which caused him to look over his shoulder at him, deep confusion and surprise in his eyes. Suddenly, the world came to a sudden screeching halt as Edward's impassive face broke out into anger at him. I couldn't hear what he was saying to him from where I was standing but I knew it wasn't anything good.

I couldn't seem to wrap my head around it.

This was Edward; the Edward that I spent my days thinking about, always baffled by the idea of how my life had suddenly changed so dramatically with his entrance... This was the _same_ Edward, the same polite and thoughtful, sensitive Edward who had sweeped me off my feet from the very beginning. The very same Edward that had seemed to have the ability to seduce me, body and soul... But this person, this Edward, was one that I had never known him to be.

This was an Edward I had never had to face- _until now_.

Taking in a deep breath to steady my nerves, I began to make my way over toward them. Finally, as I stood right next to him he lifted his eyes from Michael's confounded gaze to meet my own. Even through the feelings of my own confusion and anxieties over what had just broken out between them and the anger that was still left unconcealed on his face, I still felt this staggering need to touch him.

"Hey," I said nervously, tentatively reaching out to touch his hand. The minute my fingers had slipped their way through his, he had jerked his hand away as though I had just stung him like a bee. I was immediately startled by his reaction, feeling both off-guard and hurt. "What are you doing?" I managed to ask him in a small voice.

"Funny, I could ask both of you the same thing." His voice was no longer soft or velvety. There was no ounce of affection or tenderness in the way he had just spoken to me. No, his voice dripped with sarcasm and something else, something else that I couldn't seem to identify. Suddenly I felt as if this was some kind of joke, that he was somehow pulling wool over my eyes just to get some sort of reaction out of me and, like the young girl I was I felt I needed him to explain it to me.

"Edward, what are you talking about?" I asked, defensively. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Why do you think I'm acting like this, Bella?" he said through clenched teeth. "I come here to offer you a ride home as always... and then this guy..." His voice trailed off into devasting silence. The lilt of sarcasm was no longer in his voice but I could hear the tension... the trembling fear in it. "I thought_ I_ was the only person you were seeing."

I thought about his words for a moment, completely shocked by them. There was something very off by what he had just said. I thought about it for a moment longer, then realized it was the way he had said 'I'. He was trying to make a point and still, I didn't get it.

Then the realization danced in my mind as I took in Edward's rigid, defensive posturing. It dawned on me then that Edward must have gotten the wrong impression. Did he think that I was sneaking behind his back with Michael Newton?

Before I could even manage to find my voice, Michael Newton had suddenly looked at me. Then he brought his eyes back to Edward before explaining in a nervous but steady voice, "Bella and I are in the same English class. We were just going over our homework- nothing else to it..."

"It's fine, Mike," I said in the most even tone I could manage. I didn't know, for sure, what was going on with Edward but I sure as hell wasn't going to let Michael stand there and take the blame. I was uncomfortable with the sudden thick wave of tension between Edward and I, and I was desperate for Michael not to pick up on it. "Sorry, Mike," I said with a small smile, though I really shouldn't have been the one to apologize in that instance. "You can just head on home."

Michael nodded and gave the pair of us an unenthusiatic smile. He opened his mouth to say something to me but before he could even manage to, Edward was speaking again.

"Yeah, listen to Bella," he said in a quietly terse voice. "Run along home before I decide to follow you."

My throat went completely dry over how Edward was acting toward Mike. What the hell was his problem? He was embarrassing me... in front of a class mate! Not only that, but Edward should have known better. He was seven years older for goodness sake and here he was, acting like a bitter ten year-old. I knew in that moment that I had to try to take control of the situation before it turned out any worse.

"Edward," I said quietly, turning to look at him. "You can take me home now. Come on, let's go." I tried to give him a pleading look with my eyes, silently begging for him not to make it any worse.

But then just as suddenly I knew what I had to do, a sudden inkling prickling up inside of me on how to make this situation automatically repair itself- between Edward and I, at least.

I turned to look back at Mike, deciding to introduce the pair of them to alleviate whatever insecurities I thought Edward must have been feeling inside. "Anyway, uh, Mike... this is my boyfriend Edward."

I emphasized the 'boyfriend' part, mainly in the hopes that Edward would understand what he meant to me and that there was nobody else. I noticed his eyes widen a bit over my words. Suddenly, Edward's face changed and softened from anger to surprise, then slowly flickered to something that almost resembled guilt. I never thought it was possible to ever see him look as excruciatingly embarrassed as he did just then and he looked at Michael, pausing momentarily before extending out a hand.

The two of them shook hands briefly, for less than half a second. The exchange seemed horribly awkward, but maybe it just felt that way for me.

Michael turned to me, uncertain and wary. "I'll see you later, Bella. Good luck with your assignment."

He placed a hand gently on my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze before turning and walking away sedately. I could have been mistaken but I thought I heard Edward's breathing hitch in his throat as Michael placed his hand on me, and when I peeked over after our meaningless little exchange, his hands were still balled into tight fists at his sides, the knuckles drained of all color. It wasn't until that moment that I fully understood what was going on, with no doubts or buts about it. Edward _was_ jealous!

I couldn't believe it!

I stared after Michael, ashamed over Edward's behaviour just then. While I finally understood why he had acted the way he had, it still didn't excuse it one bit. Michael did not deserve to be treated that way- from anybody. And Edward, well, no matter how unsure he was feeling inside... he should know better! It was painstakingly obvious that Michael Newton was a fellow student and yet Edward still chose to act like a Neanderthal!

Part of me wanted to leave Edward standing there and just walk home. But then another part inside told me to stay with him, just in case. With the way he was acting, I couldn't risk him saying something else or accusing me unfairly of anything.

This was_ not_ how I wanted our day together to turn out. I was so excited, so looking forward to the ending of my classes in the hope that maybe, just maybe, Edward would be there waiting for me in the parking lot. I hadn't envisoned it to turn out this way at all!

I took a deep breath as I lifted my eyes apprehensively to meet his. Whatever I had expected to still be there in his expression, the tiniest morsel of guilt or shame over the misunderstanding had faded completely. I had expected him to act mature about this, to apologize just as suddenly with Michael's disembarkment. Whatever it was that I expected of him- some sweet act of shame- I was clearly not about to receive.

He stood there looking deeply, indignant and seething, into my eyes.

"Why did you... how... what's wrong with you?" I didn't know exactly what it was that I was trying to ask of him, because millions of questions had popped up into my head over his behaviour. It refused to come out of my mouth properly anyway. I still felt stunned.

"You could have at least made it specifically clear to him about what I am to you." He said it in a low voice, as though he was trying to make a point.

Before I knew it, it all came tumbling out of my mouth in a fast and uncontrollable rage. "Really, Edward? What exactly did you expect me to say to him other than the fact that you are my boyfriend? I cannot believe you even acted like that, you know he is one of my class mates! So, what... I'm not allowed to talk to any other guy but you. Is that it, huh?"

A range of various emotions flashed into his eyes after I was finished with my unplanned outburst. Some I could recognize; shock, hurt... But mostly anger. Anger was the most dominant one and unjustifiably so.

"Bella, how would _you_ feel if I went over randomly to one of the girls here at your school and started paying them a large amount of attention, leaning over them and laughing... and touching their arm? Wouldn't you feel the least bit threatened of whatever position it was that you have with me?"

_There it was._

Right there in those quickly uttered words, he gave me all the information that I needed to understand why he had been acting the way he had. He not only was jealous but he felt threatened because I was speaking to Michael. The irony was that he had no reason to feel jealous or threatened in any way whatsoever; I had felt completely taken by him from the very first moment we had met in his car and had felt that way all over again ever since...

He had told me a few days ago that he had already given his entire being over to me and that every part of him was mine but, in actuality, even though I had been reluctant to say too much or give too much away in what I was feeling about him I had already given myself away to him completely.

He was the only male I wanted to be with out of every other in this entire world if I really thought hard about it. He had completely won over my heart, body and interest that first night we had met. Even before he had even uttered a single word to me, with just the way he had looked at me... there was no denying what he was to me before this whole thing between us had even began.

But it still didn't excuse the way he was acting; Michael didn't deserve to be treated that way and in all honesty here, neither did I. I believed that I at least deserved to be treated with respect, and I wasn't going to let him get away with treating me like that. And while, if I was to be completely honest his concerns over me speaking with another guy made me feel flattered that he cared about me so enough to get jealous over it, I was not his possession. I would not allow him to treat me as so. But that didn't mean that I wasn't his wholly.

I don't think anyone else would ever compare to him. But then this whole dating thing was completely new to me... something foreign and fresh. But I still liked to think that I was smart enough to know how I ought to be treated by a man, no matter how small the experience was.

"You are not allowed to treat me or other people like this," I said as firmly as I could, and as dignified as I could, though suddenly fuming inside. "You knew that Michael was just a friend, someone who clearly goes to school with me. You have no excuse to treat me that way." I took a deep shaky breath as his eyes met mine, his nostrils flaring at my words. "And to answer your question, no. Sure... I might have felt a little nervous that you were talking to another girl but I would by no means act the way you just did in front of her. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm walking home to give you some space to think about what you've just done. And once you feel calmer inside, maybe I will be ready to talk..."

My voice held an air of finality to it and as I turned to start walking home, I looked at him, almost expecting him to challenge me in some form or another, that he would say something to try convince me into letting him drive me home.

Really, I felt a little shaken up by the whole thing. I felt this strong urge to leave, to keep my face hidden and out of sight from him... I felt so mad inside. Mad enough that I struggled to fight back the tears that I knew were coming, so without another word or look at him, I turned around on my heel and made my way through the gates, leaving him just standing there. I just couldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me crying. Plus, it would have ruined all of my resolve.

I barely made it past the gates before the tears came rushing out. Halfway down the street, just as I reached the corner, I felt someone's hand grab at my elbow. I didn't have to look around to know it was him; it was the same chill that broke out whenever he touched me, and only he was capable of giving me such sensations.

"Bella, stop." His voice was firm but soft all at the same time. I didn't know if it was from the severe stern tone of his voice, as though he was a teacher admonishing a child, or due to his touch that made me shiver. But I supposed it was both. A small rippled erupted from along my spine downwards.

"I said, I'm walking home," I managed to say. "Please, just leave me alone for a while." Instead of honouring my needy request, I felt his hand tighten over my elbow just the slightest bit. I tried to pull my arm away in a quick, jerky movement then I felt him finally release me. "I don't want to talk about this right now."

"No, Bella." His voice rose out to a higher level and came out firmer than before. "We're going to talk about this right now. Can you look at me when I'm talking to you? I think I at least deserve that much, don't I?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't think you get to tell me what to do." I fumed. "You had no right to act that way!"

"Bella." He spoke from right behind me. I heard him take a deep breath. "I know it probably wasn't the most mature way of me to act toward the guy but... I think all sensible reasoning long abandoned me after the fact I saw the pair of you laughing together, then the way he _touched_ you..."

Unable to help myself, I ignored him completely and utterly. I felt such rage over everything. I wanted to defend myself yet at the same time, assert my position to him._ I am allowed to have friends of the opposite sex but- so what? It doesn't change anything. It doesn't change how I feel for you especially. But still, you are not allowed to treat me like that!_

I didn't know what to expect as I dumped my schoolbag on the dining room table once I had finally reached home. Would he show up to try to sort this through, taking advantage of the fact that Charlie wasn't home from work yet? Would he try to call?

My phone vibrated in the pocket of my jeans, signalling a text message. I looked at the screen and my pulse raced. It was a text from Edward. I thought about not reading it and just deleting it straight away. But then something told me that it wouldn't be the most cleverest thing to do. I flipped it open, only to be greeted with a message on the screen which notified me that I had not only one unread text message from Edward. But three.

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves as I read them one by one, starting from the oldest. The first one had been clearly sent before Edward had shown up at my school, telling me that he was on his way to pick me up and that he couldn't wait to see my beautiful face again. I felt my eyes well up with tears over that. Why did it have to change into something complicated between us?

The next message was clearly sent over five minutes ago, after I had left him and walked home without accepting his offer for a ride home. I could pick up on the desperation he was feeling inside as he wrote it. He apologized profusely, telling me that he would never let it happen again. Stubbornly, I deleted the text then scrolled down to read the next unread one. It had been sent barely half a minute ago, and he had written that he was coming over to talk to me and explain.

A few moments later, sure enough, I heard a knock on the front door. It wasn't loud or forceful; it was quiet, nervous even.

When I opened the door, I didn't look to check or make sure that it was him. I kept my eyes level to the ground, frightened that if I did let myself, I would lose it entirely and throw myself at him, crying.

"Bella." His voice was so quiet that I would have had difficulty in hearing him, if I had not been accustomed to hearing my name being spoken in his lovely voice.

For the first time, there was a deeply apologetic tinge to it and finding my courage, I forced myself to peek up at him. Finally, he no longer looked angry. I took another deep breath as I asked him what he wanted shakily, and why he was here so suddenly.

I had to physically stop myself from responding to his touch as he took my hand gently and intertwined our fingers together. I felt the brewing anger I felt deep inside over the way he had acted so jealously toward Mike slowly melt away as he lifted our hands, only to touch his mouth lightly against my wrist.

"Bella," he began again. His voice was trembling. "I don't exactly know what to say about what happened at your school... but all I know is that I cannot blame you for being angry with me."

He didn't know what to say? Well, I knew exactly what I wanted to hear from him...

_I want you to say, most of all, that you're deeply sorry for acting that way in front of Michael. I want you to say you're sorry, for you to tell me that you know I am not some sort of possession to you, and that I have the right to do whatever I want. I want you to say that you know that I want to be with you and only you and... and that no other boys hold as much interest as you do to me. I want you to say that it'll never happen ever again, and that you won't feel threatened by me speaking to other guys. But, most of all, I want you to tell me after all of those things that you still want to be with me because, God knows, I still want to be with you... Just don't let it happen ever again._

I needed him to say them but what I wanted didn't matter. He had to want to say them. He had to mean them. He had to show me that he understood where I was coming from. Still, I waited with baited breath. My stomach danced as I felt him raise my hand to his mouth again. His tongue came into contact with my skin through his parted lips. It felt so good.

"Bella." To my surprise, he laughed as though he found something about the whole situation unbearably funny. I couldn't understand what he could have possibly found humorous in the chaos of it all. Then when he spoke again, he sounded deadly serious about it. "Thinking back to it now, I wish I could have somehow stopped myself because I never knew how much my actions would affect you like this..." His voice was barely above a whisper. "But despite it all, I want you to know that it came from somewhere deep inside of me, something that I can only interpret as good..."

When I looked at him again, I quirked my eyebrows up at him in disbelief. _Good?_ There was nothing good about how he had reacted.

"What I mean to say is that... it was meant with good intentions. It came from somewhere inside of me, a part of me that would do anything to protect you." He let out a long whoosh of air before continuing, desperate to explain. "A part of me that feels as if I could quite possibly kill someone for hurting you. And I know that there are many bad people out there, Bella... I've seen it so many times myself. There are... many bad men that wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of a sweet, timid girl like you." I heard him swallow loudly as he took in another shaky breath. "I only wanted to protect you. And when I saw that guy laughing with you and touching you, I suppose I thought he was trying to take advantage of you. I'm_ so_ sorry."

"How could you even think that Michael Newton would ever take advantage of me! He's a class mate, we have English class together!" I was the first one to raise my voice. I just couldn't understand why he could think Michael Newton was capable of doing such things, let alone assume that I was so defenseless that I couldn't handle the situation by myself- not that it ever would happen from a boy like Mike.

His green eyes darkened as he stared deeply into my own, something similar to sadness crossing his face. I didn't want him to feel sad at all... "But Bella, I didn't _know_ it was Michael Newton. All I saw was some boy shoving his hands all over you... and I suppose, I felt insanely jealous and I panicked. But mainly, I just wanted to protect you." He was trying his very hardest to control his voice, to keep the anger from spilling out at his words. I could tell by the way he was breathing in through his nostrils deeply. "It took everything I had not to act violently to protect you from him. I was telling myself to keep calm and I almost locked myself into my car to prevent myself from doing anything. But then, he _touched_ you..." The words came out as a deep growl and his hand trembled as he squeezed mine gently. "I saw him touch you, the _same_ way I had touched you...in the same place that _I_ touch you on the arm..."

It was then that I realized Michael had in fact touched me but I didn't think anything into it, then. To me, it had been no big deal. It had created no physical reaction out of me whatsoever, unlike it did whenever Edward had brushed his fingers lightly over my skin, touching me and stroking me. It had been such an innocent gesture from Michael, a meaningless one- but to Edward it had seemed to take on an entire different meaning altogether... to the point where it had provoked him.

I suppose I could understand from his perspective, what he had probably seen from a distance. Maybe it looked intimate to him, something worrying. But it had never been that way. It never felt intimate because it wasn't _him_ touching me. It was just plain old Michael Newton. Even now, appreciating the way my hand felt in Edward's, it felt so physical and intimate- _only_ with him. No one else could possibly make me feel the way Edward did when touching me.

"Edward," I began gently. "It was completely innocent. I didn't even realize he was touching me because all I was focusing on was what I was explaining to him about our school assignment. It meant nothing to me. I'm sorry that you thought it meant something. But really, it didn't at all..."

"I suppose I knew in a way, in the back of my head... that it was nothing. It was just seeing him touching you... it was something he had taken a long time to work up to... and the fact that he _did_ touch you... it drove me completely crazy!" He let out a small laugh, embarrassed. "And I hardly blame you for acting the way you did because I didn't show you the respect you deserved. I _do_ respect you and I knew you didn't hold any type of affection for him... I just couldn't seem to help myself!"

I felt my heart pounding as he slid his hand up my arm, exactly like he had several nights ago at the underage club we had went out to together, caressing my skin lovingly.

"I don't like the idea of other people touching you."

I grinned at him, I couldn't seem to help myself. The whole situation was so sad, and pathetic. Why were we even arguing over this? "Believe me, I don't like other people touching me either," I admitted honestly through a small giggle. I tried not to cringe, a delayed reaction over Michael touching me on the shoulder with his warm, sweaty hand.

"_Mine_," Edward murmured, his voice raspy.

It seemed like some kind of reminder of the words he had spoken to me when we had left the club on our last time spent together. Then he ducked his head down low to place tiny, adoring little kisses along my shoulder and, just like that, everything between us had automatically been forgotten with one brush of his mouth against every part of my arms.


	11. Love?

I own nothing to do with Twilight- clearly! Just a massive fan like everyone else!

Thank you all massively for your reviews and responses to this story- really loved reading them! Really hope this chapter is okay! :/ Hoping you will enjoy :D

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><p><em>Chapter 11<em>

"Can I ask a favour of you before we head inside to my apartment?"

"It depends on what it is," I said quietly to Edward, surprised by my own honesty despite the terror I felt inside.

"I need you to close your eyes until I tell you it's fine to look."

My pulse quickened as he passed his hand gently over my eyes, shielding me from whatever it was I might have happened to see. I smiled slightly at the physical response he always seemed to make me feel for him whenever he touched me... though there was hardly anything all that sexy or intimate about it at all.

"Why am I doing this again?" I questioned uncertainly as he guided me slowly forward with a hand on the small of my back, the other clasping more tightly around my eyes to prevent me from seeing. His thrilling touch seemed to burn straight through me, the iciness trickling straight through the layers of the plain gray shirt and cardigan I was wearing.

I heard him chuckle softly from somewhere behind me. "Because the couple living across from me are secretly exhibitionists who rarely wear clothes, Bella."

"Really, Edward! Exhibitionists?" For some reason, I found that especially hard to believe.

"Unfortunately, yes," he said quietly. "The walls in my apartment are so thin that sometimes I can hear them fighting or having sex, or sometimes even both. The lady, her name is Irina. Sometimes after they argue, she will walk outside in the lobby only in her underwear and nothing else, completely frantic. Sometimes she'll even ask me to get involved. She'll ask me to try reason with her boyfriend into letting her back into their apartment, he tends to lock her out a lot. His name is Carmen."

"Wow." I was surprised.

"My thoughts exactly."

I didn't know where I was going exactly but I fully trusted him enough to steer me into the right direction, to make certain I didn't hit myself on something or run into anything. As his steering came to a hault, I assumed we were standing right near the door to his apartment because I felt him uncover his hand from my eyes, then I felt them slide down my sides and go underneath the bottom of my shirt. He ran his smooth long fingers across my stomach, fingertips tracing along my ribcage. I felt woozy, completely intoxicated by the feeling as my eyes fluttered open.

"All right, I believe it's safe to look now. You have my permission, darling."

Curling his long fingers around my wrist gently, he led me into his apartment, then let go of me to double back to turn on a light. As a lightbulb slowly blinked on, illuminating the whole room of his apartment and bathing it in a dim yellow glow, I noticed first thing that his apartment was very tastefully decorated, however minimalistic it might have been. There was no kitchen table in sight, no refridgerator, which surprised me. Without either of those, his apartment was very spacious and roomy, bare. The hardwood floor was completely bare with nothing on it in sight, aside from a few neatly stacked boxes that had been pushed to one side of the wall.

In one corner of the room, a grand mahogany piano dominated the area. On the opposite side, a leather tan recliner sofa and a wide screen television. My eyes widened as they instantly sought out the large bookshelve beside it, and I had to stifle a bewildered gasp. Edward had quite possibly the most largest collection of DVDs, music CDs and cassette tapes that I had ever seen a person own before. To my astonishment, there wasn't even a bed. I realized then that he most probably slept on the couch.

I spun around on the spot to find Edward standing eerily still and silent at the door, hands deep into his trouser pockets, watching me as I took everything in. He was looking at me anxiously as though afraid I might say something about the lack of items in his apartment, or as though unsure that I might decide to leave abruptly. I held his eyes for several more minutes through the uncertain silence that had enveloped between us, the depths of his green eyes appearing limitless, before peering down at my hands nervously, twiddling my thumbs around.

"Music? Candlelight perhaps?" He sounded breathless.

"Uh, sure. That sounds nice."

Several more minutes passed us by in silence where Edward raced around the room, lighting some white candles that had been scattered in various places around the room with a metal cigarette lighter. Only when he had switched the lights off did I look up to find the room dancing with little lights. Everything suddenly looked so much better with them, the room looking less dramatically bare than it had been before at first glance, more bright and welcoming.

As we both sat down on opposite ends of his leather couch, Edward shifted his body slightly to face me. The space between us spoke volumes. It was in stark contrast to the way we had usually been together, with Edward constantly taking the time to reach out and touch me, stroking my hands or playing with my fingers. I found I immediately missed the feeling of his gentle and tender touch, unsurprisingly.

It made me feel instantly uncomfortable, this dripping pure need I felt to break the distance and reach out to touch him. Even if it was to simply press my hand against his knee to feel _something_ completely Edward. Instead, I took the moment between us to kick my shoes off, then curled my legs underneath myself. I pulled one of the red satin pillows adorning his couch in front of me, holding onto it tightly. I played with the hem of the fabric, picking at it with my fingernails through the unnerving silence that had decided to grace us. I wasn't quite used to things being _this_ quiet. At least, not in front of him.

I was nervous about being inside Edward's apartment. Nervous and excited.

I peeked over to discover Edward was staring at me. I wondered if he was about to say something to break the ice. I was hoping he would. But instead, he reached down and shrugged out of his suit jacket before leaning over to drape it along the arm of the chair. He wasn't wearing a business shirt this time, but a white undershirt that seemed to cling generously to him, exposing his arms and a little square of hair on his chest. I couldn't seem to stop staring. I had seen many boys shirtless before at the beach or in tank tops even but God, he was perfect. I felt the strongest urge to lean over and run my hands down along his shoulderblades.

"Can we... um... can I... ask some questions about you?" My voice came out high-pitched with the nerves I was feeling as I tried to look at his eyes, rather than at his bare arms. I felt as though I had turned into some disgusting pervert all of a sudden, some kind of sexual deviant...

"Of course you can." He gave me a smile and I hoped then that he wouldn't see the blush that had crept up onto my face underneath the soft low light of the room coming from the candles.

"All right." I found it easier to find my focus- and my voice- when I wasn't looking right at him. "Question number one. Will you tell me more about your parents?"

"Ah," he began, smirking. "You don't exactly start easy on the questions, do you?"

"What's so difficult in answering that?" I asked in a breathy voice as I noticed him kick off his shoes one by one.

I heard him give out a low chuckle as he bent down to pick them up, only to lay them out against the side of the wall closest to him on a lean. By that action alone, I deemed him overly fastidious about the cleanliness of his apartment. I don't think I had ever seen a living area look so untouched and tidy before, and what made it all the more surprising was that it was_ his_ apartment.

For some reason, I just had always pictured it looking differently...

"Well," he began very seriously. "I guess I would have to say that my parents are the most amazing people I have ever met, the most understanding and supportive. My father's name is Carlisle, my Mother Esme." His eyes began to light up slightly as he spoke about them. "They're completely committed to one another and their marriage, completely and utterly devoted." He paused for a moment, a smile spreading wide across his face. "If anything, I look up to them and aspire to be exactly like them..." I watched as his smile grew. "In all the years that I have seen them together, they've never once had a serious argument aside from who's turn it is to replace the gas they've used while driving my father's Mercedes." He had what I could only describe as an awed expression on his face.

"What about your parents Bella? Do you get along well with your father?" He sounded as if he genuinely wanted to know.

I rolled my eyes. I had already told him about my parents divorce, but nothing else of what happened afterwards. The difficulty and the hurt. For some reason, I just automatically assumed not only that he wouldn't really care to know, but that he wouldn't understand. Like he said on our first date together, his childhood was on the opposite end of the scale. His parents were still together and- according to what he had just told me- they never fought a day in their lives. All sunshine and roses almost, while mine wasn't.

"Well, yes. I do get along with Charlie well. But it...it wasn't that way at the start. My parents divorced when I was around six, and went off to do their own things seperately." I didn't particularly enjoy going into great detail about my parent's divorce. But something about having Edward here with me, sitting right next to me as I told him this, made me willing enough to tell. And he clearly wanted to know. It was only fair that I tell him about my family as well. "I wasn't living with Charlie at first. My Mom, Renee, she wanted me to head up to Florida with her for a few years until I decided I wanted to come back down here to live with my Dad."

I felt Edward's large hand on top of mine, and he gave it a light squeeze. "It sounds as if it must have been very hard on you."

I didn't want to lift my head to meet his eyes, because his tone of voice had said it all. I could hear the softness in it, the pity. I didn't want any pitying looks from Edward, that wasn't the reason why I was telling him this. Mostly, I wanted to tell him because it dawned on me that we hardly knew each other. Several days ago, I felt my mind was clouded, in this foggy haze of sweet words and romantic interactions. I felt I knew Edward so... _physically_. But I wanted to know _more_ about him as a person than anything else on the planet.

"It was at first, especially with the way my Mom was acting," I responded lightly, still not daring to look up at him. Instead, I kept my eyes to his hand, covered wonderfully over mine. "Once the divorce proceedings were over, it was as if my Mom had changed into a completely different person. The first year was hard. She was still grieving the loss of her marriage, but really she tried her hardest to keep her pain hidden from me." A small pathetic smile tugged at my lips at the memory. "I could still see straight through her lies and pretense, of course. But then, after that year, things seemed to have dramatically changed for her once I hit eleven."

I fell silent for a moment, wondering whether I ought to continue or if I was just boring Edward's brains out.

But then he asked quietly, "How did things change for her?"

It took me a moment to find my voice again. "Well, suddenly my Mom was acting happier than I had ever seen her in a long time. Suddenly she was buying all of these new fancy dresses, and wearing a lot of make-up. I think it was obvious to me then that she had found a new man that had sparked her interest."

"And the new guy? Was he someone you found appropriate for her?"

"Ummm... no... not really at first." I was beginning to feel very uncomfortable at where the conversation was heading.

I remembered coming home from school one day, only to find a new man sitting at the table in the house where my Mom and I lived together. I remember having to stuff my ears with pieces of tissue on the first night he slept over, to keep from hearing the wild murmerings and squeals emitting through the paper thin walls between the pair of them. They had obviously been having sex. I remember the very next morning waking to find her new younger boyfriend splayed out on the sofa in the lounge room, wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his naked form. It was enough to give any young girl nightmares!

Edward seemed to notice my hesitation. "You know you can tell me anything, don't you?" he asked softly. He raised a hand to gently brush my hair back from my face. "Nothing you say will ever make me shocked or uncomfortable. But if _you_ feel uncomfortable, then it's okay for it to be off-limits."

"It's not that I don't want to tell you," I responded quickly. "It's just... it really damaged me back then. To see this man who wasn't Charlie suddenly take over my Mom's life..." I shuddered. "When he moved in, she didn't even ask me whether I thought it was okay or not- not that she needed to. I suppose I was old enough then to look after myself. I mean, I _do_ like Phil. He makes her happy! Looking back to it, it should have only really mattered that she was happy. But it was just something that happened so suddenly!"

When I realized I hadn't even looked at him once while speaking, I lifted my gaze at last. He was watching me with the most compassionate expression on his face. There was nothing sad or pitying about the way he was looking at me. He looked like a person who truly understood, or could.

"What do you like to do when you're not working?" I asked, finding myself desperate for a subject change.

"I tend to dabble around a lot in quite a few different areas. As you already know, I enjoy travelling to different locations. I enjoy reading. I especially enjoy hunting. Hunting is some sort of family tradition for us, we like to do it every second weekend at the most."

"Hunting?" I was shocked. "Like whipping out rifles and shooting wild animals, you mean?"

He chuckled lightly at my response, finding something funny in it. "Something like that, yes."

Grinning widely at myself through the momentary silence that had lapsed between us once again, I found myself glacing over the room to look at his piano out of habit. I wanted to ask him whether he played well, or if it was just for decoration. But really, what kind of person splurges on a grand piano and never plays? But it seemed he already knew what I was hinting at with my looks.

"I play, you know," Edward said softly.

"No, how could I possibly know that?" I joked, smiling over at him. "You've never said anything about it all the times we have spent together. Then again, I did kind of figure that out judging by the very large piano in your apartment..."

"I've just always loved to play. It has been such a remarkable diversion to me."

"Diversion?" I asked, intrigued.

"Well, when I play I focus entirely on the music. I give my senses over completely and it... it centers me, and brings me back down to earth." I could tell playing the piano was one of his greatest passions in life just by the way he spoke of it, exactly the same way he spoke of his parents. Both were equally cherished. His eyes had lit up almost instantly, and a small wistful smile came across his face.

"I have always wanted to be able to play a musical instrument." I sighed. "I love music, but I'm just not good with my hands."

"I think it is fair to say, Bella," Edward lifted his hands into the air, regarding them with feigned wonder, "that I am very excellent at using my hands. Wouldn't you say so?" I shook my head and laughed at him but found myself distracted by the sight of his large hands and long sinewy fingers momentarily.

The very same hands that had pleasured me in his car. _Oh God, he _was_ good with his hands_!

"Bella," he began, his voice deadly serious. I didn't know what he wanted to ask of me but I felt myself tense up with wariness over the sudden tension in his voice. "About what happened with that boy at your school, I know I told you half of the story. But I feel as if I should tell you the full picture of what happened. I know you would expect that of me."

"Yes." I agreed, hoping that he would tell me whatever it was he felt he had missed out on telling me with complete honesty.

"Will you promise not to get mad and leave?"

"Of course, I promise," I whispered hesitantly.

"Okay, well, I have another explanation as to the way I acted when I saw you two together." He paused for a moment, then smiled uncertainly at me. He leaned over and reached his hand out, looking into my eyes, silently asking permission to take my hand in his. I didn't even think about it. Without a moment of hesitation, I reached my hand out and he took it, holding it tenderly. "Even though, I have been in several relationships before in the past, nothing quite compares to the staggering, uncontrollable feelings you've brought out of me when I'm around you."

I looked over at him to gauge his reaction, not quite believing what he was saying but the sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Bella, it seems that you have resurrected something deep inside of me that I don't quite know how to handle yet. I've never felt this way before, so you can imagine how hard it is to keep myself under control." He scooted closer over to me on the couch, our legs touching as he clasped onto my hand tighter. "I never even knew what it felt like to feel such jealousy and concern over someone until the last twenty-four hours frankly."

He kept his head down, looking anywhere but at my face. His fingers were stroking circular movements against my hand gently, each and every time sending a peculiar jolt-like sensation through to my entire system.

"I need you to know that, I will try to control myself next time. And that it will never happen again. I will_ never_ let it happen again!"

The moment he had said those words, I knew I had already forgiven him all over again. I was just pleased that he had finally said them- and meant them.

As he slowly released my hand from his, he placed two hands, two now trembling hands, on the sides of my neck, and pulled me in close to him in a tender embrace. I didn't know what he wanted in that moment but as he bent his head down toward my face, I felt his mouth meet my ear.

"Ich liebe deine Zerbrechlichkeit," he whispered. Then I felt him take the shell of my ear into his wet mouth, and shivered.

I didn't know what it was that he had whispered to me into another language, but I was familiar with what language it might be. "_German_?" I guessed. My voice was trembling and my heart pounding.

"You certainly are smarter than I give you credit for, darling." I laughed at his statement until... I felt his hand roam. He dragged his fingers in a straight line down the center of my body, across my stomach and navel and down over the waist of my jeans…_and then lower_. He began tracing the seam in the crotch of my jeans, slowly sliding it up and down and over repetitively. I felt a rush of moisture instantly pool between my legs over what he was doing to me.

"What does it mean in English?" I panted, trying to focus on having decent conversation rather than giving in completely to what he was making my body feel.

He moved his mouth down onto my neck and the feel of his weight on me caused me to have to lean back against the headrest. The feeling of his tongue gently licking my neck made me feel almost dizzy with desire. It was overwhelming, never quite having felt this way about a boy before. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to touch him back but felt so unsure with how. I was reduced to merely whimpering out his name through the blissful attention he was giving me.

"Oh, Bella," he rasped in between kisses on my neck. "I'm so in love with you. It's all too much."

My body jerked in surprise over the sudden words he had uttered while he continued rubbing me over the pair of jeans I was wearing. I wasn't sure if he wanted me to say it in return; I wasn't even sure if he had meant to say it or even have me hear it. He'd said it so quietly. But I felt it was too fast. Of course, I did like Edward a lot. But was what I was really feeling for him love? I felt confused.

But with him holding me to his couch and with the way his cold mouth attacked every part of my neck, all I was certain was that I felt whole and complete. I never wanted the moment to end. And what I wanted the most in that instance was to stay in his apartment forever and never have to return home to where Charlie was.


	12. Coming Down From The Clouds

**Everything regarding Twilight is the property of the great S.M. I own nothing, except this little plot.**

**Wow. I want to say a massive THANK YOU. Never thought that this story would ever reach past a 200 review mark so it is genuinely shocking. Really hope you will enjoy this chapter! :-D Thank you all so much, your guys are seriously amazing and I love you all! It astounds me that people are interested in reading my writing, so I am sincerely flattered!**

**Also, a special thank you to Ti Amo16 for making a Twilighted thread for this story. It was such a nice surpise!**

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><p><em>Chapter 12<em>

"So, Michael Newton is having a party at his house this Friday and my friend wants me to go," I started before I had even thought completely through what I was saying to him. I felt Edward stiffen beside me at the name I had just brought up as we strolled leisurely towards the front door of my house. Why did he still have to feel that way? Hadn't I already made it perfectly clear enough about what he was to me? I sighed through my nostrils deeply. I had to finish what I had started. "And, well, I wanted to go. But I was wondering if..." I faltered as soon as I had even began to suggest it.

It was a stupid idea. No, Edward wouldn't have wanted to come to a party hosted by a teenage boy that he felt foolishly insecure of. Nor did he probably want to be somewhere that was surrounded by wild, immature adolescents reeking of alcohol while they threw up because they couldn't keep a total of how many standard drinks they had consumed. Plus, he probably would have felt a little left out, being the oldest person there.

I stole a quick peek at his face as he paused with his walking and gently took my hand. I found myself desperately wanting to suck the suggestion right back into my mouth as soon as it had escaped.

He was staring at me quizzically. "You were wondering if what, Bella?" he asked softly.

I shrugged and tried to adopt a nonchalant attitude, but I had a feeling he saw right through my disguise. "Well, I was wondering since you're my_ boyfriend_ and all...if you'd like to come with me?" I didn't want to seem too eager. But I really did want him to go. I felt I didn't want to spend a day without him, even though it was completely dumb of me to feel that way.

"Why?" He asked bluntly. I wasn't expecting him to ask me that. I was caught off-guard.

"Why what?" I asked, confusedly.

"_Why_ are you asking me to come with you?" He sounded genuinely confused, but wasn't the reasons for my asking him obvious enough? Was it so wrong of me to ask, so wrong of me to want this from him?

"Um." I knew what I had to say. I wanted to say it. But somehow the words just got stuck in my throat. My throat felt completely dry. "Well," I began slowly and uncertainly, "I'm asking, Edward, because... I want you to come?"

Suddenly he seemed too altogether amused with my words. He grinned a lopsided smile, but this time it didn't make my knees feel weak. I learned that not all of his smiles made me weak. This one, it made me feel uneasy. Then he chuckled. "So, you're inviting me to a party held by one of the boys at your school?" I opened my mouth to answer but then he held up a quick finger. He wasn't finished yet. "And not only hosted by any boy from your school but practically my number one enemy when it comes to you?"

"Enemy?" I repeated, startled by his use of words. "What's all this about enemies? _Nobody_ is the enemy here, Edward! _What are you_-" Before I had a chance to spit the question out of my mouth, he had leaned down to kiss me quickly on the lips.

I was stunned, all furious reasoning gone as he pulled back to look at me. "Fine, darling," he said quietly after a moment of bewildered earth-rendering silence on my end, "Anything that makes you happy." He gave me a tight lipped smile, but it seemed forced. I could tell there was something going on, and he wasn't planning on telling me. "I'll see you then," he called over his shoulder as he strolled on along through the front yard to his car, hands shoved deep inside his trouser pockets. "Sweet dreams."

That night for the second time ever since Edward had walked so suddenly into my life, through all the mind-numbing confusion over his behaviour, I cried for half an hour before finally falling exhaustedly into a deep sleep.

* * *

><p>I opened Edward's text and grimaced.<p>

_I'll be outside to pick you up so we can arrive together at the party at 8.00. Can't stop thinking about you... like always. Until tonight. - E._

Funny, he was eager to go to Michael Newton's party with me today. I couldn't seem to wrap my head around the way he had acted. While I knew he still felt funny about Michael Newton, there was no reason behind it. At least, none that I could think of. To say the least, I felt beyond confused. But then, as I thought long and hard about it, it all suddenly came crashing back down on me like a tonne of bricks.

In his apartment. Kissing on his couch. His hands all over me. His... sweetly uttered words.

_"I'm so in love with you. It's all too much."_

_There._

The realization hit with full force. I hadn't said anything back! I was so stupid. Cruel. All the bad names in the book. How could I have been so stupid, so blissfully unaware of anything other than the fact that he was pressing his mouth against me? I had been too distracted, my mind and body revelling and screaming internally with all the wondrous sensations he was putting my body through.

Why couldn't I have said anything? Just one little response about how much I felt for him? About how overwhelmingly pleased I was that we were dating? I was so hopeless. But I would fix it tonight at the party, I decided determinedly. I would make it known to him in the open even if I was spluttering over my words while I did so. It was worth the risk. I just couldn't have him thinking that I didn't feel _something_ intense for him.

The day seemed to be going slow. I found myself itching for it to be the evening already so that I could see him and settle this misunderstanding once and for all. I just had to.

As I arrived home, it was just past five thirty. I flung the door shut from behind me and raced straight up to my room; I was more than a little eager to get ready. But it seemed someone had already beaten me. Charlie.

"There's something for you in your room. Somebody dropped it off for you."

I didn't know what he was talking about, I wasn't expecting anything. I stomped past him into my room, frantic, then spun around slowly on the spot, searching for a package or anything that seemed any different about my room. Everything looked exactly as it had this morning before I had left for school. But then I found what it was I was searching for as soon as my eyes fell on the drawer near my bed. It wasn't a package, or a letter for that matter. Flowers. A large bouquet of flowers. A dozen of beautiful red roses in a China vase. There was a card, but I didn't want to open it with Charlie right there at my door. I had the slightest inclination of who they were from. It seems Charlie did, too.

"Looks like the kid is trying really hard to impress you, Bells." _And I knew he was. _But it was a wasted effort, considering he had already impressed me from the very start. And I knew that not only way he trying to impress me, but he was also trying to make up for his curt behaviour, in his own unique way.

I smiled to myself as I threw my backpack and shopping bag onto the middle of my bed, then went slowly over to them for a closer inspection. I picked them up and took in a reverent sniff. They were truly beautiful. They smelled absolutely beautiful, too.

As I heard Charlie's scuffled footsteps head down along the stairs, I bent down and opened the card. The writing was neat, small and eloquent:

_My Bella,  
><em>_Red roses symbolize love, respect and passion. All the things I feel for you._  
><em>Looking forward to seeing you tonight. Hope you find some enjoyment in receiving these. <em>

I was stunned by his words. Completely speechless and unable to breathe. He really was the perfect person for me. Romantic, sweet...gorgeous. He was my Romeo. If I didn't have anymore reason to believe this whole thing between us was so surreal and dream-like, I certainly did now. How was this happening to me? Where did he come from all of a sudden? Had he just fallen onto the face of the earth, this immaculate guy that no other testosterone-fueled boy could ever compare with? I was never one of those girls who daydreamed about finding the perfect man when they were younger... the perfect man that seemed to adore them and care for them more than anything else in this entire world. And, _suddenly_, here he was!

He really _was_ too good to be true. He was a rare creature of the male species. But I wasn't complaining.

Instead of Edward picking me up this afternoon, Rosalie and I had gone shopping together to buy an outfit for the party in the mall after school. Much to my surprise, Rosalie let me choose whatever I felt I wanted to wear for the occasion- so long as it was a dress. I had settled on a halter necked, leopard spotted dress that I had found hanging on one of the half-price racks.

The fact that it was half-priced and how pretty it looked, was a bargain within itself. It was definitely my type of dress; something comfortable, the fabric wispy, and not all that revealing in the cleavage department. Call me boring and conservative but I had always tried to steer away from dresses that had made a generous show of my small breasts. They were the least liked part of my body, second to my knobby knees.

When I had slipped out of the changerooms to show Rosalie my choice of clothing for tonight, twirling around on the spot as a joke and waving the ends of the dress around, she had whistled at me, her eyes bulging. I couldn't help but laugh at the expression on her face, it was too funny.

"Bella," she had whispered under her breath breathlessly. "I have to say, you'll definitely have a lot of boys coming after you tonight."

I had laughed off her comment and rolled my eyes. I wasn't dressing like this to impress any boys at our school. Who was I kidding? I was doing this to impress _Edward_. I wanted to look good for him, so much so that it would knock his socks off. I was hoping he would still find me attractive since I was going through all the effort.

I had told her thank you and that maybe going to the mall hadn't been such a bad idea after all. She asked me what shoes I was going to wear. My mind had been torn on that instance, debating on whether I ought to wear my Converse sneakers or ballet flats- _anything_ without heels so I could still walk. But then she had scowled at me and stated, in a matter of fact tone, that older men like girls in high heels. So, grudgingly on my part, high heels it was.

Rosalie had looked fabulous in her dress as she came out of the changerooms, of course. She wore a red satin, slinky number with only one sleeve that had hung off her shoulder, complimenting her flawless skin and collarbone area. Then she had slipped on these ridiculously high red pumps that had her looming over me. As she pulled me to the mirror side by side in the changeroom so we could stare at each other, I couldn't shake off the feeling that I felt like such a midget standing by her. It got me wondering fretfully if I looked just as bad standing next to Edward, who had to be at least over six foot tall.

I was feeling beyond desperate as the day went on. As I slipped into my dress, turning to scrutinize myself sideways in the mirror anxiously, I had to admit, I looked great. Well, mostly I _felt_ great. It was amazing how much a new article of clothing could inject such confidence and self-esteem in a person. But then maybe that's why they call it retail therapy...not that I would know.

As I retouched my make-up in the mirror, putting on another generous smearing of ivory foundation to cover my permanently flushed cheeks, I found a new sense of desperation take over. Desperation to see the look on Edward's face once he saw what I was wearing for him.

I wanted him to see me as this fearless, confident and sexy young woman. Not that I believed I was any of that to begin with.

After I was done coating my eyelashes with mascara, my phone went off with it's chirping. I rushed over to my bed and picked it up, only to find it was text message from none other than Edward himself. My pulse sped.

_I'm here. Shall I come up and say hello to Charlie before we leave? - E_

I groaned. I didn't want Charlie to act like he did last time when Edward had come to pick me up on our first date. I didn't want to risk it. Plus, I hadn't told Charlie yet that things seemed to be getting serious for us, or that he was actually my boyfriend now. I didn't want to risk Charlie a premature death by announcing it on him.

Plus I felt I knew Charlie so well, that if we had sprung it up on him so suddenly, he would have started shooting off questions incessantly and perhaps even consider manslaughter. I knew he would have automatically made the assumption that Edward and I were sleeping together. And honestly, if I was going to be punished for dating an older experienced guy because of Charlie blowing things wildly out of proportion, I would have rathered actually done the deed first before groundings were made.

"Bella!" he called from downstairs, scaring me half to death. "I think your ride is here! The financial-"

I cut him off, exasperated, "Yeah, okay Dad! I got it!"

Plopping down onto the end of my bed, I slipped on the blue high heels I hadn't worn in what seemed like years, threw the chain strap of my purse over my shoulder, then rounded around the corner for the stairs. I hadn't really intended to bring anything to Michael Newton's party, so my purse was light as anything; only a rolled up twenty dollar note was contained in it for something to drink if needed.

I swore underneath my breath as I tried to tread carefully, one small step at a time, down the staircase. I really shouldn't have bothered wearing darned shoes with heels; I had to clutch both hands tightly to the railing guard in case I lost my footing and fell. The dread I was feeling of falling was amplified to one hundred and fifteen percent as I peered right down to the end of the stairs. If I did happen to trip, God forbid it from happening, I most likely would have broken my neck or sustained even worse injuries, preventing me to from heading out with Edward tonight. And that thought terrified me to the core.

Charlie caught my eye as I slowly clutched my way down the railings and reached to where he was standing by the door. He looked flabbergasted over what I was wearing. I grinned inwardly. I could only hope that Edward would have been just as impressed.

"Bells," he croaked deeply. He seemed genuinely speechless, and I felt my cheeks redden. It wasn't every day that I had gotten such a pleasing reaction. Especially not from my father. He was used to seeing me in nothing but my sneakers, jeans and a comfy T-shirt. I knew I had surprised him. "Wow, kiddo." He swallowed loudly, trying to regain his composure. Then, in a very Swan-like fashion, his cheeks were bright red. "Uhm. You sure you don't want me to pick you up after the party?"

"No, Dad. I'm fine," I said honestly. "Edward will be taking me home as well."

"Edward?" he repeated. He sounded disconcerted for some reason I couldn't place. "Well, then. I want you home after eleven, remember? Just because it's not a school night tomorrow doesn't mean you can stay out for the night."

I rolled my eyes at him. "What? Dad, I'll be home by eleven. I haven't forgotten!"

"Well, you just, uhm... you make sure this Edward kid brings you back home _here_ tonight. All right?" There was something very off in his tone, something he was trying his very hardest not to be direct about. He looked so uncomfortable all of a sudden, it didn't add up.

"Huh?" I felt deeply confused over where he was taking this.

Charlie didn't answer, just shook his head and pushed me gently toward the front door. I knew he was hiding something. There was something he didn't want to tell me. When I turned around to glance at him suspiciously, I found he was rubbing his temples frantically. Something clearly had him stressed...and I couldn't figure out what.

"Um, okay." I backed out the door, frowning. What on earth was that about?

But my worries over what Charlie was trying to say instantly turned to mush when I found Edward.

Suddenly, my eyes had shot up and met him. I felt this sudden nagging and intense urge to run just to meet him at his car, even willing to risk falling flat on my face in order to do so. I was momentarily overwhelmed just by the sight of him which was no surprise, really. He had his dark navy blue suit jacket off, and he had it draped along his shoulder by his index finger. My eyes scanned the full length of him appreciatively as I sucked in a deep breath of air. He was also wearing a clean, crisp white shirt, a light green tie and charcoal gray pants. It looked suave and well put-together, and he looked like an add straight out of a menswear commercial.

He didn't notice me approaching at first; he was staring off at something in the distance from down along the road. The gravel made loud scrunching and crackling noises from underneath the heel of my shoes as I rushed over toward him, as quick as my feet would allow without sliding on loose bits of pavement, and it seemed that was what had alerted him that I was ready to go.

Edward's beautiful green eyes widened as he scrutinized what I was wearing carefully while I crossed the road. My heart was pounding and I found myself breaking out into a cold sweat underneath the cool night time breeze over the look his eyes gave me. Nothing could have ever prepared me for the explosive reaction I was just about to receive but I tried to take it with a grain of salt.

"Bella, why are you wearing _that_?" His velvety voice sounded panicked, and concerned.

I stopped dead in my tracks. Did he honestly have to ask?

**So sorry I haven't updated in quite a while guys, rl gets in the way sometimes. But I promise an update will be done in a week or two. So sorry again! Love you guys x**


	13. Afterparty Plans

**First and foremost, I have to apologize for taking so long to update. I really am sorry for keeping you waiting.**

**Something very difficult to deal with has happened in my life, where my Grandma, whom I was very close with, passed away at seventy four years old. I couldn't wrap my head around it, and I just found it so difficult to write. **  
><strong>I truly am sorry for making you all wait so long. It's just hard to concentrate and get into the mood to write when your family has been thrown into grief. <strong>

**Thank you all so much for your patience, and I hope you're still here with me on this stories journey.**

**I hope you all tell your family, friends, everyone endlessly how much you love them, because it is tragic not being able to express it anymore. xxx**

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><p><em>Chapter 13<em>

He looked me up and down, which felt like the millionth time he had done it.

"You look lovely in that dress," he said slowly, grudgingly. "Very beautiful." Talk about a 180 degree mood swing!

I blushed nonetheless, beyond happy. "Thank you." I tried to give him the same appreciative look that he was giving me, back with my eyes. "You don't look too bad yourself."

It was his turn to look embarrassed. "Thank you," he said quietly. "There's not a lot of it, though."

I stopped dead in my tracks. "Pardon?" I thought I must have misunderstood him.

He opened the car door for me, and held it there. "It's just a little difficult to get used to, seeing you with so little clothes on," he said. "Usually you are not so scantily clad."

"Edward, I'm wearing a dress!" I looked down at my dress self-consciously, considering what I must have looked like in his eyes. Did he not like what I was wearing?

He seemed to read the look of uncertain panic in my eyes, because he quickly explained, "It's very short. I can see your thighs." Almost as a way to stress his point, his hand travelled up and down the thigh closest to him, rubbing against it quickly. My face felt completely flushed and hot. I really hoped Charlie hadn't happened to see it, if he had been spying on us through the lounge room window. "I think I would have liked it better, had you worn a long skirt."

I choked out a bitter laugh, and folded my arms across my chest. I couldn't believe how stupid he was being!

"Let's go, then," he muttered, a little impatiently.

I sat in the passenger's seat, and he shut the door gently from behind me. My eyes followed him as he walked over the front of the car to his side. I was still amazed at how good he looked. As he hopped in, he draped his navy blue jacket on the ground at my heels, and started the ignition.

Then, he asked something else, which irritated the hell out of me. "Are you wearing underwear underneath it to cover yourself?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am," I said indignantly. "All this talk is embarrassing me!"

He laughed, a deep amused chuckle that, funnily enough, affected me in imaginable ways possible. Every part of my skin suddenly felt as if it were tingling. "I'm sorry for making you feel uncomfortable," he said seriously, and I could tell he truly meant it. "It's just... I don't want any guys at the party tonight hanging around you. It would devastate me if they tried anything on you because of what you're wearing." He looked really worried, but it was hardly necessary.

"Edward, stop being silly. And... to answer your question before..." With a spur of boldness, I hitched the skirt piece of my dress up just the slightest bit above my hips, so that I could show him that I was wearing underwear underneath. He looked completely shocked, yet as if he liked it at the same time. He peeked, but seemed as if he was trying hard to appear as if he wasn't really looking. He returned his eyes to the road at once. "I'm dressed like this, for you. No one else, but you. I wanted to impress you."

"That was hardly necessary. You impress me regardless of the way you dress."

"And, are you satisfied now that you know for certain I'm wearing underwear?" I laughed. The whole thing was so silly.

"Very, and you have very pretty legs. I'd still prefer a long skirt, however."

"Has anyone ever told you that you are annoyingly stubborn?" I asked, teasing him.

He smiled. "I tell myself that everyday."

"Well, just to let you know, I'm wearing this dress," I told him firmly, in all seriousness now. "I can't change into something longer. It's too late now."

"Fine," he whispered lowly. I could tell he was not pleased, to say the least, with not getting his own way.

I decided to change course into another, more important, direction. "When we were in your apartment on the couch... and you were kissing me... you..." I took in a deep breath. "...you said something that shocked me." I could feel my heart racing with the nerves I was trying to hard to suppress.

"Yes?" He sounded concerned, but he didn't glance over at me. "What was it?"

Everything was silent for a moment. All to be heard was the tyres of his car rolling over the ashphalt.

"Bella?"

"You said that you were so in love with me," I finished through stiff lips. I still couldn't get over it. He was the first guy who has ever told me he loved me- aside from Charlie, of course. And there was no doubting I felt the same way, some intense feelings for him. I didn't know whether I loved him exactly, but I did enjoy his company. And, frankly, I found him to be the most amazing, gorgeous man I had ever met. "I do too, you know," I confessed, in a voice as soft as a whisper.

For a moment I thought he hadn't heard me. But then, he turned to slowly glance over at me.

I got a tight feeling in my chest, partly due to anxiety, over wondering how he would respond to what I was telling him.

Suddenly, I understood why he was looking at me so intensely the way he was. Confusion painted his features, and he hardly blinked once, his eyes dark and searching. "You do, what?" He asked, unsure. He swallowed audibly. He was nervous too, it would appear.

I could feel my breathing speeding up, and I let it out again, "I do love you, too."

"Do you honestly mean that?" He asked, his voice a little quavery. I found it very endearing.

"Yes. I do!" My voice sounded a little uneven and shaky, too. "I mean, I have no experience whatsoever in relationships. But I wanted to make this clear to you tonight, before we got inside, that... that I do love you, too. I feel strongly for you, and it's kind of... scary because I've never felt this way before. Ever."

He didn't reply. At least, not until we arrived and he parked the car a few roads down from Michael Newton's house address. The street was full of cars blaring with stereos and groups of people from the school hopping out to head inside. I looked around briefly outside, hoping to catch sight of Rosalie. I wanted to introduce her to Edward for real but, unfortunately, I hadn't found her, as yet. But, I knew it would be easier, once we were inside.

"Bella, darling." His voice broke me out of my restless searching through the car window. I turned to look at him. He leaned over the console, and my breath hitched in my throat. I thought he was going to kiss me on the mouth, and I was ready for it. But as he bent in to kiss me, his mouth went straight to my neck.

"Someone has a neck fetish," I breathed shyly, shivering.

I felt his silent laughter vibrate through his lips as they slowly traced the lining of my throat. Slowly, my eyes closed without my consent. I honestly loved the way he seemed to like kissing me on my neck; it was very pleasurable. It was like he was highly aware of the effect it had on my body, and he used it to his full advantage.

"You have no idea," he breathed and, rather purposefully, his front teeth nipped lightly at my skin. I jerked a little in the car seat, in surprise.

"What about you, though?" I found myself blurting urgently, as his teeth then plucked at my chin.

"What about me, Bella?" he asked, in that seductive, smooth voice of his. I almost never wanted to get out of his car. For the briefest of a second, I thought, _Screw heading into Michael's for the party. Let's just stay in his car and make-out all night!_

"I was, um, wondering if..." I swallowed thickly, feeling my cheeks redden.

"Yes?"

"Well... since you were so generous to me before in your car when you pleasured me... I was, well, wondering if you would like me to, uh, do something for you- in return?" The words came out so fast, I was afraid he might ask me to repeat them again.

"But just being with me, as my girlfriend, is enough for me," he said, amusement lurking in his voice. "What do you think I would ever need from you in return?"

It flew out of my mouth, so quickly I couldn't even recognize myself, "After the party finishes, I want you to take me to your apartment afterwards. I want to give myself to you, completely. I want you to make love to me."

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><p>Hope you're still interested in the story. please let me know x<p> 


	14. He's Lost Control

**I own nothing to do with Twilight.**

**Thank you all so much for your encouraging words, and alerts. Sincerely, it means so much to me. I'm truly sorry I've been tardy with not responding and with not updating much. I promise to pick it up and update more frequently so that you can all get to the climax.**

**This part of the story, Edward is getting darker and finds himself reaching boiling point over his insecurities. So, be warned. But, I'm sure you're all expecting that anyway. Story is loosely based on the film Fear though, of course, Edward is a more immovable force in Bella's life, which will be revealed very soon.**

**Sorry of this chapter is very bad. Feel free to let me know your thoughts or, if you have any questions, feel free to ask or PM me if you'd like. :) xx**

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><p><em>Chapter Fourteen<em>

Michael Newton's party was the first school-based party I had ever attended, and it was also the most crowded house I had ever seen in my entire life. So crowded, in fact, that it was increasingly difficult to somehow find Rosalie over the clusters of student's surrounding me. It sucked. I had really been hoping to introduce her to Edward officially.

I think I was becoming precariously close to hyperventilating, the moment Edward and I had reached inside Michael's large, two-storied weatherboard house.

Edward kept me right by his side, with an arm wrapped wonderfully tight around my waist to keep from losing me, whilst I attempted my very hardest to find Rosalie. It was hard, so very hard to concentrate on my main task at hand, because I was feeling uncomfortably jittery over the plans Edward and I had made tonight.

Tonight, he agreed to drive me back to his apartment, where we would stay there for a little over an hour, doing things I'd never even done before with him on the couch, before he had to drive me back to Charlie's so I wouldn't miss my eleven p.m curfew.

Eventually- reluctantly, on my part anyhow- we gave up on the search and Edward let me drift off to the buffet-like table, which held various large bottles of wine, a beer keg, glasses, as well as several other various kinds of yellowy-white liquor.

Usually, I avoided alcohol like the plague, what with being underage and all. But what the heck, I decided, and poured myself a small amount of vodka into a glass. I certainly needed the liquid for courage tonight. I finished off my drink by pouring it half-full of cola. At least the cola would drown out the strong, lingering bitter aftertaste the vodka presented.

"Bella, awesome," Michael said very pleasedly, once he noticed me standing at the table. "Glad you could make it. Who're you here with? Your friend, Rosalie Hale?"

The instance he asked that question, I felt my stomach sink. "Um, I'm here with Edward." I turned around and scanned the room for him, and once my eyes fell on him, I felt overwhelmed with relief.

"Oh, right," Mike said, soon as his eyes found Edward, too. Edward was standing all by himself across the room uncertainly, his hands dangling at his sides, while he took all of everyone around him in with curiosity. I couldn't help but notice Mike looked distinguishedly disappointed, for some reason. "Uh, that sucks then."

"Why?" I asked, surprised.

He shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. "It's just... I really don't think he's the right person for you, Bella." His words startled me. All I could seem to do was gape up at him, blinking heavily. "He gives me the creeps, kind of. Especially the way he looks at you. Uh, maybe I should say, _is_ looking at you."

"What do you mean, the way he looks at me?" I asked, a little self-consciously. I hadn't noticed Edward looking at me any differently. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, really. It's just he..." He gave me a meaningful look, in which I felt the disbelief growing unconcealed on mine. "He just seems to be the one in charge, you know." He shrugged again. "I mean, _what_ was _with_ him going nuts over the fact that we were just talking to each other that day at school?"

Hmm, well. I could see his point there. "Edward's just... I don't know." I couldn't even begin to choose the right words for it to explain. "He feels protective of me, maybe."

"Nah, it's more than that. It's like your the little mouse, while he is the big bad cat grooming you, until he is ready to pounce and devour you whole."

I laughed a little at his unfitting analogy. I couldn't seem to help myself.

He rolled his eyes at me, then shook his head. "Not just that, but he looks as if... _any minute now_, he's gonna pounce on you and fuck you to death."

I gasped at his crude choice of words. Then, without thinking, I poured my glass of cola and vodka down the front of Mike's white shirt. It was definitely going to stain, and he gave out a little groan, full of chagrin. I gave him a little smile, like it was so accidental of me. But, really, deep down inside I think I'd done it out of spite. Purposefully.

_Take that, you annoying disgusting jerk._

I didn't know where such cruelty had come from but somehow I had managed it.

Without a further noise, he stormed off right away, heading up the winding staircase that probably led up to his room, to change. Instantly, my eyes made a rapid beeline to where Edward was standing through the crowd of students and it turned out he had seen all of the incident himself.

He was staring at me with wide eyes and, for a second there, I felt incredibly guilty and wondered paranoidly if it would have changed his opinion on me. But then I watched as an amazing range of emotions flickered across his face in quick succession: surprise, amazement, then pure bliss.

I could tell he was totally over the moon that I had taken the initiative in taking care of myself, and he looked actually proud for me. It made me hysterically happy. Yet, so suddenly, I was in the realm of tears over disgrace at myself and my hurtful actions, because of treating Michael Newton the way I had.

I didn't want Edward to see, so I marched over to the liquor table again and tried to distract myself futilely. Before I knew it, without even having to look, I knew he was standing right behind me. It was like I was always aware of his presense more than anything else, that we were somehow in sync.

"Are you all right?" He asked in a sharp tone that cut through me deeply, like a shard of glass.

It didn't do well for the tears I was working so pitifully to suppress over the rising guilt. I turned to face him silently and shook my head, not at all in the mood to explain. I felt several hot tears roll down my cheeks and, to make matters worse, I felt my bottom lip quiver.

"What did he say to upset you, Bella?" His soft voice came out lower, and definitely angrier this time around.

"No, he didn't say anything all that bad," I whispered desperately. "It was just what I did. I feel so guilty, I can't believe I acted so mean in pouring my drink all over him. It was so... _bitchy_ of me!"

Edward chuckled, and it seemed to come on out of nowehere. It shocked me. "He'll get over it one day. He's not mad at you, you've only just wounded his ego." He threw his head back, and laughed again.

Clearly, he was finding a lot of amusement in Michael's suffering, which shouldn't have surprised me in the slightest, since how funny he had acted around me whenever I brought Mike's name up. Plus, how jealous and threatened he seemed of him. Typical.

"Edward, it's not funny," I told him sternly. "Stop laughing. God, I can't believe I even did that!"

Though, Edward was listening intently, his eyes had lingered elsewhere. They peered at something behind us, and when I turned to follow in the direction he was looking, the shame flared again.

Michael had returned back downstairs to his party. Sure enough, he was wearing a crisp and clean button up shirt, a black one this time to replace the one I'd just heartlessly ruined.

"Well, he was right anyway," Edward said suddenly, though in a voice so soft and quiet I was unsure I had heard it correctly or not against the thumping background of the modern music playing from the stereo. Either way, I put it down to my imagination playing stupid tricks on my hearing.

Quickly, I moped my eyes. "Sorry for crying," I whispered up at Edward, so embarrassed over my crying in front of him that I felt my whole face flushing. "I'll be fine. Wait here, I'm going to go over and apologize to him. It wasn't nice."

Really, I should have all ready known the second I'd said it, that Edward wouldn't comply to my request. I felt him right on my tail, as I approached Michael, who had his back turned to us.

He was talking hushedly to a girl, who was in my English class. Jessica. She was one of the popular girls, and she was wearing a very pretty tight pink floral dress, that made her clevage pop out something shocking. It took me a moment to recover. It was a very short dress, though. It left little to the imagination; I knew Edward would have disapproved.

Taking in a few deep breaths for courage, I interrupted the pair. "Hey, Michael," I whispered gently.

He turned to glance over his shoulder at me, a little nervous as if expecting another attack. But then, his eyes seemed to take in the fact I didn't have another drink in my hand to throw all over him, and he seemed to recover visibly in relief.

"I'm really sorry for what I just did. Please forgive me, it's just... I don't like discussing my personal relationships with anyone. What goes on between me and Edward, is private."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, too," he said, a little guilty. "I shouldn't have brought it up. It wasn't my place to say."

Suddenly, Michael's eyes widened and he flinched away a fraction in fright. I looked behind my shoulder, and immediately recognized what the problem was. Edward was staring him down, emulating all sorts of repressed anger.

With an apologetic smile at Michael, I grabbed Edward by the hand roughly and pulled him along with me across the room. Unfortunately, a few people I recognized from one of my classes, had been watching what was going on between all three of us excitedly.

Just as we reached past them, I realized they were deep in discussion. "Who do you think would win? That tall guy with Bella Swan, or Michael?" One of the boys was saying, in a very deep-pitched voice.

"Oh, are you serious?" Another one was laughing. "Michael would lose, hands down. I bet that guy could handle himself in a fight. Plus, he looks like he'd go anal on him..."

I tried my very hardest to shut out their words, but it was a little difficult.

"Edward," I warned, my voice coming out a low growl.

He leaned against the wall beside me, looking completely unperturbed, which honestly wasn't doing him any favours. "What?"

"I don't appreciate you acting like that," I said furiously. "You should know better. I thought we talked about this, I thought you understood that Michael is just a classmate and he means nothing to me, that if I did even have interest in someone else, I wouldn't be with you!"

Edward started breathing heavily, as his green eyes flickered back over to right where Michael was still standing. I couldn't tell what he was feeling by the expression on his face, which was neutrally calm, but I could pick up some of it by his body language. It was a struggle for him to control his fast, shallow breathing; I could make out as much by the quick, deep undulations of his chest. The nostrils were flaring and, frankly, I found him scary as hell. I just couldn't understand why he was reacting the way he was.

Without returning his eyes back to me, he whispered in a very desperate sounding voice, "Bella, are you attracted to him?"

"Edward, are you serious?" I laughed uneasily in disbelief. I couldn't believe it!

"Tell me." There was a lot of pain in his voice, as well as fear.

"Of course, I'm not attracted to Michael," I told him cautiously. Which was the absolute truth. "I told you, he is just a class mate. A friend, who I help with English assignments from time to time. I already told you that! And, I thought you said that you would try not get-"

"Why?" he suddenly asked, sounding offended. At least, he brought his eyes down at me to peer intently into my own now. That ought to count for something.

"Why what?"

The look in his eyes were beginning to frighten me. There was nothing there anymore at present, like they were big depthless voids. I went to glance down at my heels, just to alleviate myself, yet he wouldn't have that. With a long forefinger, he turned my head back up. He seemed adament to have me looking into his eyes.

"I thought you understood what you meant to me," he mumbled, short of a whine. "I thought... I illustrated it perfectly clear to you, Bella."

He looked so upset that it took everything within me not to follow through on the urge to kiss him.

He took my hand in his, and moved it down to the seam of the crotch in his trousers, as if to show me- to _remind_ me- of my promise. But I hadn't broken it, so why was he even bothering with it all? I came to the self-conscious awareness that students from my school were all around me, and I felt then that if anyone had so-happened to witness Edward guiding my hand down to place it where his penis was inappropriately, right underneath the thin material of his trousers, I would just about die.

"Surely, you remember what you said to me that night, Bella," he said, and there was something noticably off about his tone of voice. "How I told you I was yours completely and utterly, and you said back that you wanted to be with me."

"Edward," I warned, nervously. I couldn't seem to be able to breath, I felt completely frozen from the neck downwards. Immobile with caution, and fear.

"How you wanted to be with me as my girlfriend, and _only_ me." His hand was clasping around mine to the point of pain, while he held it there still in place.

Oh my God. I felt like my fingers were going to snap any minute now...

"Edward, you're hurting me," I gasped, my voice all shaky and squeaky with panic.

I was so wrapped up into the look of pure frustration in his eyes that I hadn't been able to sense what was going on in time early enough.

Michael Newton slammed in front of me and wrenched my hand free from Edward's tight hold.

His intervening was so unexpected and sudden that it caused me to lose my balance and, before I knew it, my head was hitting the wall as I stumbled, tripping and falling flat on my ass painfully.

"Bella," Edward's voice came from somewhere behind Michael, unsteady and trembling. I managed to catch a glimpse of his face, and he looked almost helplessly frightened and as if he was about to cry. He tried to slip past Michael's body to come to me, a trembling hand outstretched. Only Mike wasn't giving in which, oddly, I appreciated.

I never thought it ever possible for me to feel scared over my safety, but at that moment in time, I did.

"You don't get to go near her, you jealous fuck," Michael was yelling. "You hurt her hand. Couldn't you see that, asshole? What the _hell_ is wrong with-?"

Suddenly, there was an alarming crash as Michael was falling headfirst into a few party-goers, sending them squealing and toppling over as their glasses of alcohol flung out of their hands and smashed into shattered pieces against the hardwood floor. The thumping party music came to an eeiry stand-still. Everyone was dead quiet, watching the scene, the air thick with palpable tension.

Edward was staring down at my face, taking in deep breaths. He was trembling and his whole body shook.

"Bella..." A dry sob tore through his mouth.

Then, within a blink of an eye, Michael was lifting himself off the floor and coming at him again with full-force. He tackled Edward, bringing him down. Michael was sobbing as he landed a few punches on Edward's face then Edward was rolling over, throwing a few thumping punches of his own.

I had never had to witness such violence ever before or, oh, so much blood.

Somehow I had found myself standing on my feet again and suddenly, everything paused. Edward's hand was frozen, floating mid-air, the knuckles a deep red, as his eyes darted up to mine. I sniffled loudly, and took in all the faces of the spectators. They were all staring at me too, in alarm.

Then, it slowly registered in. My mouth was hanging open, and I was out of breath. It occured to me then, that I must have been shouting at the top of my lungs for all of it to stop.

And, thankfully, it did.

Edward slowly seperated himself from Michael to return to his feet, breathing out my name repetitively all the while. I purposely ignored him, to scrutinize Michael wearily. He was completely motionless, his head lolled to the side on a lean. His face was beyond recognition, due to the wet, stickiness of the blood covering it from the impact of Edward's blows.

I caught the movement as Edward turned down to look at the damage he'd done. "He's still breathing, just unconscious," he muttered unevenly, as if that might have made any difference. "I suppose someone ought to call paramedics, as well as the police." And so, someone did. I didn't know who made the call though, I wasn't paying any attention.

I refused to so much as peek over at Edward. I kept my eyes to Michael, until my eyesight went all blurry so that I couldn't make him out in my peripheral anymore.

I found a moment later my hand aching belatedly from the crushing impact of Edward's hold, and brought my other hand over to cradle it, using the painful twinge as a diversion from noticing the numbing grief washing over me, the dreadful awareness that Edward-_my sweet, loving, sensitive boyfriend_- did such a careless, frighteningly violent thing.

Several moments later- I'd been too brain-dead to count- the ambulance and police arrived, their sirens blaring on full. I discovered I was not only sobbing out of concern for whether Michael would recover or not, once they folded out a stretcher to place him on gently and strapped him in for his trip to the hospital, but I was also mourning the possibility of what could have happened.

Edward and I could have been advancing further in our relationship, a positive step. We could have been making love on his couch. Now, I couldn't even stomach seeing Edward in a romantic light any longer.

I didn't see this coming at all.

I was disgusted to know that, even then, I still had a small amount of love for Edward despite it all.


	15. Never Let You Go

**I own nothing to do with Twilight clearly. I'm so sorry guys for the long wait for a update, my computer isn't working. It's so frustrating! Thank you all so so much for your reviews and alerts, it makes me so happy! I really hope this chapter isn't a disappoint but.. I will go run and hide now. :) Hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter Fifteen**

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><p>The week after Michael's party went on in a mind-numbing blur.<p>

The first time I noticed his car there by the lot, parked always in the same place across the road by the school gates, I froze. My body, my _mind,_ froze.

Each and everytime I saw him sitting there in his car, waiting for me after school to drive me home like old times after he'd knocked off from work and I'd finished all my days worth of classes, a part of me broke inside even more. He never got out to even make the attempt to speak to me, to apologize and plead with me for forgiveness. Maybe he knew he would only be wasting time, and valuable effort, in trying.

All he did, was stare...

His eyes would stare intently into my own through the scrolled down window of his car and, each time, I felt myself drawing closer and closer to the point of giving in.

Desolate, was the only expression I could think of with how he looked; His mouth mashed together, lips pressed tight. Green eyes downcast and fiercely bloodshot from lack of sleep, crying... or something similar. Miserable, deeply miserable. And all the smoke... all the curls of cigarette smoke swirling in his car. He would always be smoking a cigarette, as if it helped subdue his pain and frustrations somehow.

And every single time I steered myself with resolve and walked straight past his car, my heart sank a little more, at the expression on his face. The way he would slump his head back against the seat, cover his face with his hands... the way his mouth would hang open, like he was either screaming into them, or crying. Wasn't quite sure which.

It killed me inside to see our separation effected him the way it did, but there was ultimately no going back. All the promises he made, the promises to keep his jealousy for Michael at bay... were broken. That line of trust and confidence was crossed. And, while they say forgiveness is divine, I didn't think I could ever forgive him. Not in a million years.

I felt so confused, and upset.

There was a part of me, down inside, that sneered at me, told me, O_h you'll give in soon enough. You love him, he's altered you too much. You love his company, all the tender looks he gives you. All the hand-touching, the smiles and the butterflies you feel in your tummy while around him_..._The jealousy flatters you in some sick and twisted way_. And, maybe that part of my subconscious was telling me the undeniable truth. Soon, I would crack and relent, and forgive him, sooner or later. But I fought against that part, so so hard.

That wasn't the only hard part, noticing the way he would park his car outside my school, coaxing me to give in with aching looks and tragic chain-smoking habits.

Because... then, there was the text messages he sent me.

More than ten a day, always saying different things but ultimately rounding off to the same thing. Always making me break down into tears, into aching to surrender, and wanting, to forgive him.

Some sweet, remorseful. Heartwrenching:

_Bella, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. If it's any consolation, I still mean what I said. I love you. Always will, even you ignoring me can't, won't, change that..._

_How many times do I have to tell you how sorry I am? Please talk to me. Please come see me, you know where I live and I'll always welcome you in..._

_I miss you. God, I miss you so much it hurts. I miss being around you, I miss feeling your warm skin on my hands. I despise myself for what I did. I honestly do and, if I could somehow reverse time so that everything was normal between us, that it would make you here with me now, there is no doubt in my mind what I'd do to you. Kiss you, touch you. Be with you, make blissful love to you, like we'd arranged before the party. Love you..._

Some full of palpable irritation:

_What can I say to make it up to you? An eternity of grovelling at your feet? I didn't know I had hit him that hard. I didn't know I had knocked him unconscious. When I'm angry, I can't control these things. Surely, you understand that. I know it's no excuse to how I behaved, and I'm sorry. If I could take it back, trust me I would. Within a heartbeat, I would..._

And then finally some, in a more spiteful air:

_I don't care if it's ludicrous, sitting there in my car to pick you up from school anymore. Everytime you ignore me, and deliberately keep walking on by, just makes me overwhelmed with love for you even more. Never forget that I'll never let you go, darling..._

God, I missed him. And I wanted to be with him so so bad. I wanted to see him smile, and laugh again, and I wanted to be the one responsible for making it happen.

But then, there was the idea in my head, it would be betraying Michael, if I had gone back to him.

Deep down inside, I knew I wouldn't let myself live that night down, had I agreed to see him again, to start anew with him. That night, the vacant look in Edward's eyes, Michael's blood staining his knuckles, had been a constant relived nightmare for me. Even in my dreams.

I'd stressed over that evening day after day, trying to make sense of it all.

Michael, thankfully, didn't sustain any serious injuries, aside from being knocked unconscious and a low loss of blood. The doctors made him undergo several brain scans- they were concerned the heavy effort of Edward's blows had somehow given him serious brain damage and, luckily they were wrong.

And yet, constantly replaying that night, I couldn't comprehend how Edward had fared so well. There was no ounce of blood on him from the attack, at all. No apparent facial injuries from Michael's fists. What I couldn't understand, was why Edward hadn't bled as equally? He was perfectly fine. No scratch or bruise on his face, at all.

It was bewildering to make sense of.

Having been the cause of the fight- and witness - the fight looked brutal and, yet, Edward was perfectly fine. No bruise, no blood from any fists that flew his way. A hair out of place, maybe. That's it. No blood, and Edward was human like the rest of us. Shouldn't, at least, one pound to the nose, have made him bleed from the impact? Not that I wasn't relieved he wasn't hurt, in any shape or form.

It was just... confusing. Everything was confusing. Especially, when it came to him. I just couldn't understand how it was possible for him to make it through such a fight without any injuries of his own.

He had to bleed, right?

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><p>"So, how was Biology?" Rosalie asked wryly, combing out her long blonde hair with her fingers. It was like an inside joke between us, since forever; We both loathed Biology, especially the unappealing lessons when we were forced to dissect animals, like frogs, and when we had to probe and prod into cows intestines. I shuddered, and she giggled. "Did you have to dissect anything today?"<p>

"No, thank god," I breathed out, mildly relieved. "It would just have given me more reason to be in such a gloomy mood... seeing all the dead animals."

She frowned sympathetically. "Are you still feeling that bad over the whole Michael Newton incident? Bella, it wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was. If Edward hadn't been there then..." She cut me off, irritated.

"Bella, you've _got to stop_ thinking about that. It was beyond your control! I mean, it's understandable, we _all_ feel bad, but there is no use taking the blame and-"

Rosalie became very distracted, all of a sudden. Her conversation halted meaningfully, and her train of sight went elsewhere to somewhere- or _someone_- behind me. She leaned back in her chair, rolling her bright blue eyes at something indiscreetly. She gave out a heavy, exasperated sigh.

"_Bella_," she started to warn at me, in a low voice that ought to have held some significance to me only didn't.

Before I could turn my head to see _who_ had her so preoccupied, a pair of large white hands shot out over my eyes, fingertips mashing into my nose. And not just any person's hands- -

"Guess who?" He breathed out, in a teasing, yet distinctively humourless way.

Everything curled in my body and clenched in fear, because the instance his hands covered over my eyelids, I _knew_ it was him. His long-fingered hands... his icy touch that made me tremble and affected my body in ways, like never before. Everyone else's touch, it seemed I was immune to. But his...well,_ never_ his.

"Bella." His mouth was directly on my ear; his urgent breaths fanning over it in his desperation. "Please, we need to talk," he groaned out. "You can't keep ignoring me like this. Frankly, it's driving me insane!"

Finally regaining my wits over the momentary shock of realizing, I slapped his hands away from my face, and rose to my feet. In my haste to get away from him, the legs on my chair screeched, and echoed in the long and crowded cafeteria, when I bumped into it. I stared down at my hands, knotting my fingers together, merely because I couldn't take looking at him anymore. I wasn't willing enough to subject myself to it ever again, because whenever I did, it just brought back those wretched memories at Michael's party of how far gone he was, at how irrationally violent he had become. I still couldn't believe he was capable of such a horrid thing, not when he was always so sweet and thoughtful towards me. If yet, alarmingly tempermental with his moodswings.

It just hurt too much to look him in the face.

"Please, Edward," I breathed desperately. "Just stay away from me!" He didn't listen anyway. Deep down, I think I already knew he wouldn't. He was far too stubborn for that.

"Bella..." He came at me desperately, and his hands grasped gently at my face, bringing my line of sight up towards him. My dark eyelashes fluttered, and I winced.

I couldn't prevent the gentle gasp that slipped from my mouth, nor could I, the brief fluttering of eyes, at the long-awaited reunion of his familiar and greatly missed touch on my skin.

_Oh, god._ I felt I was hyperventilating. My head was swimming. _Couldn't he understand I didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore? I didn't want to feel those hands on me anymore... those same ghastly hands and knuckles that had been painted in Michael's wet blood._

"I'm_ so_ sorry for what I did. You cannot begin to possibly comprehend how much so." One of his hands stroked my hair at my shoulder, fingers rubbing the texture softly and, unconsciously, I shivered. "I had a long think about it, realized I was doing it only because I... I _never_ want to lose you. Not to someone like_ him_!"

"I don't care," I breathed, trying and failing to sound firm and determined. "Words. They're _just_ words to me!"

"Please." The word was out of his mouth like an urgent whimper. Leaning down, he kissed my forehead gently. "It's not _just words_, they'll _never be_ just words, Bella."

He kissed me again, gently trailing goose-bump inducing kisses along my jaw and up along the side of my mouth. It's too suffocating and, yet, I just don't have the strength to fight him off, to push him away- out of my life, out of my heart- anymore.

_Still... no. It isn't enough._ "Edward, stop," I pleaded weakly. I needed to get away from him. I needed time to think to myself, again and again, about the whole situation. "Please, just...No!"

He put an arm around me, holding me close to his chest. I tried to push him away, only it was a feeble, feeble attempt.

"You can't avoid me forever," he breathed against my lips, speaking the obvious truth out loud. Of course, realistically I couldn't. But I could try. "You _know_ you can't, Bella, we both know it!" His breath was like it always had been before, minty. Amazing against my throbbing skin. Somehow calming, still... not enough to erase the panicky feelings inside.

I was so close to giving in... And I didn't want to be, at all.

"Let's go back to how things were before," he murmured in my skin. His voice was soft, tinged in desperation and urgency.

"No, it's done! _We're_ done! I can't look at you the same after-"

"- Please, no, baby." He whimpered against my hair in distress over my words; nuzzling his nose deeply into the strands and inhaling, hard. I pushed him again- my palms outwards and fingers splayed open to his hard chest- with all my might... only he was all hard muscle and strength. Tears brimmed over the corners of my eyes. "Bella, I need you." His voice had turned hoarse, his breathing more intense. "Please, don't say it's over. Don't say it's done, when I'm _so_ sorry!"

"Well, you should have thought of that before-_umph_!"

My breathing hitched in my throat, the words cut off and left lingering, as he reached over and ran his icy long fingers down the side of my chin, over the lining of my lips, halting their movement and words from flowing out.

"Sssh."

I hated the effect he had on me with his hands alone, how weak I seemed to be around him in stating my wishes.

"- Don't finish it." It tore out of his mouth like a low, defensive whine. "Don't _even_ say it, because... don't you _remember_ what I told you? Has it somehow _slipped_ your mind?"

Grasping my chin in his hand, he yanked my head up. A strangled yelp erupted from my mouth at the forced movement of my head. All my resolve was gone, was crumbling at my feet... at the way his green eyes stared into mine fervently. I couldn't seem to break his hypnotic gaze.

"I told you, like in that text message, I'll _never_ let you go. What _part_ of that can't you understand, Bella?" Though he said it gently, you could hear the frustration, the deep-seated annoyance. His breathing was uncontrolled, loudly fast and low whinnies.

I opened my mouth to speak, yet again he covered my lips with his fingers, pressing them still.

"Sssh, let me finish," he whispered, his eyes narrowing, darkening a coal black somehow. "You _know_ what happened was a mistake. We both know it, and I regret it so badly but I can't take it back. You know, I never intentionally hurt your classmate at the party. I would _never_ do anything to intentionally upset you, but you need to stop avoiding me _right now_."

His expression was stern, unnervingly commanding. A bit like he was the parent, and I was the child he was scolding. His fingers brushed lightly over the curve of my lips again, leaving them tingling...prickling.

"Things have to go back to the way they once were, understand? Because if not..." He paused, somewhat dramatically. It was intimidating. "If not, then... I'm afraid there may very well be even more consequences. Consequences... that we don't want to happen, Bella, if you catch my drift, so _please_." A cry of protest got caught in my throat, when so suddenly, he leaned down and kissed me.

His lips were demanding, impossible to resist, firm and rough, molding into mine.

The strength he had was... no match with mine. He was too strong, physically. My pushes to break the kiss went unnoticed by him when his hands gripped the back of my arms and held me in place, while he prolonged it. I was finding myself breathless, and woozy, by the time he pulled away, and stepped back, his hands closing over my hips to keep me from losing my balance.

The back of his hand scraped softly over my cheekbone, while I tried to regain my steadiness of breath. "I'll see you after school," he said, in a final tone that left no room for discussion. "I love you, I'm _so relieved_ we've resolved this issue and can move forward. Remember, _I love you," _he muttered vehemently. "It's all that matters, not how wrong I acted. Not how indecent it was, how inappropriate. It's just about _us, everything _I'll ever do."

He blew out of his mouth shakily, as he stared down at me forlornly, raking two hands over his auburn hair, and back over his constantly crumpled forehead again.

And then, he was gone.


	16. Unconditional

**Hey guys,**

**I am so sorry for taking so long to update. Real life gets in the way, and I've been experiencing a few personal struggles. I honestly didn't mean to take so long to update! Hoping you will enjoy this chapter! It's been a long time coming lol... but hopefully it won't be too much of a disappointment!**

**I would really like to thank you all so much for your reviews, and notifications I've received. It makes me truly honored and I loved them all so much- so please keep them coming!**

** I would love to read your thoughts after this chappy lol. :-) See you next update!**

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><p><em>Chapter Sixteen<em>

Just like he said, he was already parked and waiting outside the school lot the minute the school bell rang out for end of class.

Unexpectedly, he was wearing a blue-rimmed baseball cap. He liked baseball? Well, I'll be damned, because I never knew. At first, I couldn't see his face, because the peak of the cap was down low, while his head was angled to the side, staring off at something near his car.

A few students from my grade and below stared as I made to approach him. Paranoidly, I got the idea in my head... they were criticising me over my weak behaviour. At how, practically by walking over to his car, it seemed that I was somehow letting him off on punching Michael so brutally at the party in front of everyone, when... it wasn't exactly that way at all.

Halfway through starting to cross the road to his car, Edward turned his head up into my direction and, at last, I could make out his eyes underneath the cap. His face looked a lot more pasty than I remembered, in such a severe way, that he almost looked ill. There was a small amount of light in those eyes for me.

He stared at me warily, running those eyes along my face, and fleetingly downwards over my body in my school uniform. I found then, that he was holding something bulky behind his back- keeping it a secret from me- and, a moment later, he brought it out from behind him, revealing a large bouquet of big stemmed white roses. It seemed him giving me roses as a gift, was becoming his thing. His own way to make up for things, apologize, whatever.

The flowers alone made my heart hammer like a wild thing in my chest and, his lips quirked up a bit when my eyes widened at them- like he was somehow aware of how flustered him buying flowers made me.

"Hey," I breathed out reluctantly, as I made to approach him.

"Hey yourself." He gave me a nervous smile. "How are you?"

"Okay. And yourself?"

"I've been better," he shrugged. "Bella." He was sighing out my name with raw emotion once I'd finally reached him. "These are for you, a miniscule start to my forgive-me operation." He held them out to me, and I accepted them carefully, averting my eyes. They were beautiful, sweet-smelling and fragrant. A nice addition to my bedside table once I got home. "Really, I hope that after all I have planned for you, it'll almost be enough for you to start forgiving me. I honestly can't handle a world where you're not in it."

The words he uttered alone took my breath away.

How does he possibly do it? Why was it so incredibly hard of me to stay annoyed with him, when he goes and buys me nice flowers, like this? I didn't want to give in so easily, but it was a little hard not to respond to the enarmoured look he was giving me.

"Are they enough?" His gentle tone was hopeful. "Do you find enjoyment in them?"

"Yes, they're lovely." I succeeded in keeping my voice vaguely light, and negligent. I didn't want him getting the assumption I'd be letting him off everything so easily.

"Anything, for you."

My stomach did somersaults at the fiercely earnest words and, when he reached over to cup my chin, he planted a swift, sweet kiss on my mouth. I moved my mouth away a fraction to stop anything from evolving. Maybe sensing I didn't quite want his kisses yet, he turned away quickly to open the door on my side for me. I was relieved he had finally, at long last, got the picture on how I needed space and time to think.

Space and time away from him to clear my head, especially.

"Have to hand it to the eighties," he grinned at me, once we were inside his car as the radio turned on. Then, he switched on the indicator, and eased the car carefully out of the parking space. "Usually, I'm not so much a fan of music as this. But this song, it's just... uncannily relatable." His mouth twitched slightly, and he reached across the console and placed his hand on my knee, squeezing gently. My breathing hitched in my throat along with the familiarity. The gesture was comforting somehow, and I found then, I had missed his hands on any part of my legs. "Have you heard it before?"

I flushed for some silly reason, as I listened in carefully, taking in the words the male was crooning in a somehow tinny voice. I couldn't fathom why Edward found it relatable.

_ You are an obsession, I cannot sleep._ _I am your possession, unopened at your feet._ _There is no balance, no equality, _ _Be still, I will not accept defeat..._

"No, I can't say I have," I breathed out, as it slowly got into the crashing chorus. Such a weird song. And, relatable, he said? How? What? Why?

But then, his soft voice broke me out of my humoured thoughts. "Could we go to my apartment first? There is something I want to show you."

"Sure," I agreed, without thinking.

Deep down inside, I think I knew what was impending. And, for some reason, I was somehow anticipating it, despite everything.

I wanted Edward to make me feel good again. I wanted us to somehow move past all the unpredictability of before. I wanted to be able to forgive him. But, most of all, I wanted to kiss him, touch him...

Love him again. Make him smile, laugh...

Because, I think, love is about forgiving someone- no matter how much they hurt you, or betrayed your trust.

Love is unconditional.

I wanted to get through all of this, because I felt I didn't quite feel ready to leave him, and get over him, yet.

Not until after we made love, anyway.

* * *

><p>Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I entered through the front door of his apartment, and inspected the room.<p>

Holy hell. Not only had Edward finally brought himself a large double bed, with luscious deep red curtain drapes, but there was a long trail of scattered white rose petals lining the hardwood floor to his bed. It was truly beautiful. I had no doubts whatsoever that he did it to impress me. Whoa. There are candles around every part of the room, making small shadows jump across the ceiling.

An instance later, I'm flushing. Does this mean what I think it means? Edward has finally brought himself a bed. No more small sofa, which left room to do... other things. Was this whole reason why he invited me back here? Did he want us to finally have sex? Because, I wasn't quite sure whether I still felt intense enough about him to actually do all that stuff.

"I really hope it isn't too much." His voice comes from right behind me softly. He sounded very... uncertain, and anxious. Maybe he was hoping for this, after all?

I turned to look at him. He had his baseball cap off, and finally I could truly see all of his eyes. He was staring at me anxiously, while I took everything different about his apartment in. The effects of our seperation were still there in his appearance; His eyes still looked bloodshot around the rims, and there were dark circles underneath his eyes, a bit like bruising.

"Well, it certainly makes the objective clear on why I'm here," I tried to joke, only my voice came out unbearably weak and uneven.

He caught the tone of hesitance in my voice; He tried to hide a smile, as he began over towards the bed.

I felt like my heart was going to explode any minute, when he crouched down to untie his shoelaces.

Oh my god. Were we really about to do this? I couldn't help panicking while observing him slide off his shoes. He kicked them over to the wall furthest from the bed, and turned to me, hands floating midair to the buttons on his shirt. Does he want me, in that bed, tonight? Right now? How was I even meant to know what to do while it happens? Do I just let him do it to me, put his thing inside of me while I just lay there underneath him, or do I-

"Can I get you anything?" he asked quietly, startling me from my mind's restless thoughts. His fingers were at work, unfastening the top buttons on the collar of his shirt. "I wasn't sure whether I ought to have brought you food, or not. Would you like a drink, perhaps? The tap works over by the sink. There's water."

Oh god. I couldn't even concentrate on what he was saying to me. Not when he was so close to taking off his shirt. Nothing else just would seem to register, not when his hands were slowly moving, undoing various buttons.

Oh all right. So maybe, I wasn't as unwilling as I thought.

I did want this man all to myself. I wanted him to make love to me. I was surprised that fact hadn't changed after what happened. After witnessing him beating the crap out of Michael Newton at the party. I should have felt sickened by him, told him to back off, break up with him, even... but, with my teenage hormones fizzing at the sight of him removing his shirt, it was a hopeless cause. I still wanted it, so so badly, even if I was inexperienced and felt totally anxious about what I was supposed to do.

All I knew, was that I wanted him in that moment. I wanted him, on that new bed he brought. I wanted him kissing me, I wanted his mouth on every part of me... just like the past few week hadn't ever happened at all for us. Mmmm. I want to feel his hands all over me again- him rubbing me with those long-fingered, cold hands.

I realized, a moment later, that I had just been standing there, staring at him unabashedly, while he loosened his collar around his neck and did other purely harmless things... things, that still were capable of wrecking a nervous havok on my heart.

I blinked heavily, at the new change in scenery. How did I manage to get so wrapped up in my thoughts that I missed everything else? Already, he was sitting on the bed, arms crossed over his chest, one socked foot on top of the other. He was just... staring at me. I felt like I wanted to die in that moment. What the hell is wrong with me?

This definitely calls for a bathroom break.

"Um, can I use your bathroom?" I murmured, embarrassed.

"You don't need my permission to use the bathroom, darling," he said, sliding off the bed, deep humour in his tone. "Here, I'll show you." I followed him over to a small narrow hallway. "It's the first door you come across."

"Great," I whispered, staring down at my fingers. I still couldn't quite look him in the eye. "Thank you. I'll only be a few minutes."

"Take your time. I'll just be on the bed."

I nodded, and entered. I was instantly relieved to find his bathroom empty. No rose petals or other romantic decorations in here. No, everything was thankfully plain and white tiles.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My cheeks were completely flushed, my hair a little messy. I really needed to do some work. I turned on the cool water and dipped my hands underneath, I cupped water in them, and brought it up and over my oversensitive, blistering skin. _I can do this,_ I told myself, _People do this all the time. It's a natural thing._

But then, I was left feeling even more daunted by the sound that erupts out from in his bedroom area. Was that music? Did he have the stereo going? I flushed even more, when I realized what the song of his choice was; Elvis Presley's soft, melodic crooning to 'I Can't Help Falling In Love With You.'

Oh my god. My father listened to this when I was a little girl. Who knew Edward had my father's taste in classic music? Still, it was quite nice, the effort he was going through. Even if it was a little peculiar. It was sweet, because I knew then, he was truly going out of his way to make me feel comfortable.

Still, I need to make myself look better for him, I know it...

I tried to brush out my hair with my fingers, but it refused to sit flat. Maybe he had an actual comb or something that I could quickly use? Surely, he wouldn't mind, or even notice if I did borrow it quickly. So, I'm off, hunting through his bathroom cabinet. It's without success, though. All I found, was toothpaste, shaving gel... eyecontacts, toothbrush.

_Eye contacts?_

I snatched them out of the cabinet to inspect the packaging closely. Whoa, did Edward wear contacts? Well, I'll be darned. I never even knew. They are light blue colored disks. I supposed it wasn't that obvious that he needed to wear contacts, but I thought his eyes were pretty regardless. I stowed them back in, and rummaged around through his other contents. I let out a huff of air.

No hairbrush in sight, whatsoever. Damn it. Where else would he keep his hairbrush? I pummelled my fingers lightly against my lips, as I looked around. And then, it came to me.

"Uh-huh," I whispered to myself, "Sink drawers."

I started my hunt again, pulling out the first two top drawers. No luck, just some old flat copper coins that looked years and decades old. Second right drawers, I felt completely stunned by the contents inside of it.

Laid down carefully in the drawer, was a translucent plastic pouch filled with watery red liquid. _Was that... blood?_ I poked gently into the middle of the pouch with my finger and, sure enough, the liquid sloshed and bubbled. Why would Edward have a pouch of blood in his bathroom drawer? I wondered, chewing into the sides of my mouth.

Then again... I always knew there was something quite different about him. The outcome of the fight between Michael and him- how he fared excellently, with no bruises or bleeding injuries whatsoever from Michael's hits. The hands- though he said it were simply due to Reynauld's Disease. The constant kissing on my neck... the way Edward seemed to want to be around me, every single hour of the day... Could Edward actually be-

"Bella?" There was a thwacking thump on the bathroom door. It scared me half to death, because it was so unexpected. My heart was thumping in my chest in alarm over the sound of his voice. Instantly, I felt guilty for snooping around in his bathroom. "Everything all right in there, darling?" He spoke gently through the wood.

"Yes, I'm fine." Gently, I closed his drawer shut, and turned towards the door.

Taking a deep breath, I wrenched it open to find he was standing right there, close to the door, arms folded against his chest. My heart raced in shock over everything. Did he know I was snooping around in his bathroom drawers? Did he know I saw the bag of blood contained in there? Oh, god. Would he be angry with me? God, I was already a quivering, guilt-striken mess, and he hadn't even accused me of snooping around his property yet.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, confusion in his voice. The way his voice was, like that, told me he was completely oblivious to what I just did in there. It sent an immediate wave of relief over me, yet I couldn't shake the nerves as I stepped down the hallway back into the main room of his apartment.

Elvis Presley still played from his stereo. It made me feel unbearably queasy about what we were about to do in here.

"Are we... are we going to do this?" I found myself asking foolishly, my voice small and hesitant.

"I... I hope so. I've been waiting very long for this, Bella Swan. To show you how much so that I love you."

He held a hand out to me, and I turned to look over at him, biting my lip, shy. His eyes are glisteningly bright, fervent... excited. I couldn't say I felt the same way, though. I felt like a quivering, restless, sweating mess.

Still, I found that small amount of courage to slip my hand through his. So suddenly, it sent me gasping through the beautiful music of Elvis, he pulled me into him, wrapped his arms around my waist, and lifted me up, up...like I was truly weightless in his arms. It was so unexpected, him hoisting me up into the air, that I let loose a small giggle. Afraid that he was going to drop me, I twined my arms around his neck and clung on for dear life.

I could feel the solid length of his body. One of his hands slowly ran up along the curvature of my back, pressing me closer against him, and then, I was feeling him running his long fingers through the back of my hair, through the tangles gently.

"You're so beautiful. Ever since the first moment I saw you in the rain, I knew." He smiled up at me, before leaning forward. Our foreheads pressed together; mine heated, his a direct contrast. "I am so in awe of you, you're so brave. Especially for tonight, and what we're about to do as one."

"What about it that makes me brave?" I whispered, shakily.

He didn't answer and soothe my mind's restless searching for answers into that question. Rather, instead, he shook his head, leaned down and kissed my lips gently.

"I love you so much," he murmured into my mouth.

I moaned my return, and started kissing him back. And then, slowly, he started carrying me along in his arms toward his big bed. My legs wrapped around his waist to prevent any kind of impending fall, but that really was unnecessary, when a moment later, he laid me down gently onto the soft mattress.

This is it. This is finally it. I was quaking like a new kitten over it. Finally, after all that horribleness that happened at the party, and with me ignoring him, we were finally going to look past that, and do it together, like we had intended.

I was just hoping he would go gentle on me. I was positive he knew it was my first time, anyhow.

He looked just as nervous as I felt, and I couldn't seem to take my eyes off him, as he undressed of his shirt. His eyes are on mine, while he shrugged out of his shirt, and my breathing went shallow, because he was so heart-stoppingly delicious. He folded his shirt, placed it neatly on the ground near his bed. He gave me a wide-smile, as he undid the button on his trousers, and flung them down over his knees.

Oh, all right. I swallowed dryly, as he crouched down and stepped out of them. My heart felt it were pumping full of hot blood and desire for him. When he removed all but his socks and underwear, he slowly eased down onto the bed over me. Already, I was panting hard, and we hadn't even started anything yet.

"I'm so relieved you've managed to forgive me. After what happened, I was so terrified you wouldn't want any more to do with me. Take off your shirt," he whispered, gently, and his hands went out to help.

He took gentle hold of the neck of my shirt, and murmured for me to hold my hands up into the air. I did, and then he was pulling it gently up and away from my body. And then, unnervingly, he leaned back to look at me, really, really look at me. In my bra, and jeans. At least the bra wasn't too ugly, or flesh-colored, I thought, in relief.

"So beautiful," he whispered, sounding surprisingly awed. "So warm."

My breath hitched in my throat, as he reached down and gently ran the back of his fingers over the side of my stomach. I shuddered and whimpered at his cold hands, I couldn't help it.

What he did next, had me staring down at him in confusion. I just didn't know what to do, or what to even say, when he bent down and started planting small feathery kisses over my belly button and navel. I felt the skin of my stomach ripple over the foreign sensations he was already making me experience, and I let loose a very breathy laugh.

"That tickles," I mumbled, breathlessly. I was very aware that my breathing was too-loud over the Elvis music, and that my eyes were having difficulty in staying open.

He panted out a trembling chuckle into my hipbone, nuzzling the tip of his ice-cold nose into my skin. His tongue ran around my bellybutton and, oh god, I was shivering so violently I didn't think I could ever stop.

I felt his hands reach up to undo the button on my jeans, and without hesitation, he pulled and tugged them down over my buttocks, along with my underwear. I shrieked a bit, unused to being so quickly exposed and vulnerable to him the way I so suddenly was. He looked down at me, and held my gaze, as he stepped quickly off the bed, and pulled my jeans free from my feet and ankles. Then, he let his hands run up and over the balls of my feet, and it had my toes curling something shocking.

I tried to cover myself up... _there_, with my hands, because I felt so awkwardly exposed and vulnerable the way I was, with just lying there, while he held my legs apart by the feet. Only, he didn't want that at all.

"Okay, ah," I groaned out in surprise, when he licked his lips and leaned down.

He pressed the tip of his nose into the side of my right leg, and up along my thigh. I swear I heard him sniff into my skin, but then I couldn't say I was really concerned whether or not he did, eitherway.

"You still smell so good," he groaned into my skin heatedly, until he went right near _there_. "I bet you still taste just as good, too," he whispered, bringing his eyes up to look at me, and oh god, there was both pure pleasure and animalistic hunger on his face.

I knew what he wanted then; To_ truly_ taste me...

"Crap," I groaned, convulsing uncontrollably as he started with his tongue. Next thing I knew, my hands were in his hair, and I was trembling like a volcano around him.

My skin was burning. I felt ready to explode any second.

The way he used his lips, his tongue, opened up a whole new hot wiring of nerves down there. And, he just seemed to want to be down there for ages, and never stop. It was totally disarming, yet sweet, sweet agony.

"Please," I begged, and I pulled and pulled, trying to get him to come up so I could kiss him. He didn't stop until a wave-like orgasm pulled through me, weakening me, sending me writhering.

Once he realized I had reached the conclusion of what he was doing to me, I think, he came up to kiss me, deeply. My breathing was still ragged, and I was still floating high, when he turned his face into my neck and started kissing me all over.

"Tell me you still love me," he panted desperately into my skin, and I moaned.

"I _still_ love you, Edward," I breathed out unevenly. He paused from kissing me, brought his face over to peer me deeply in the eyes. His look was so tender, so gentle, I think it made me just about fall in love with him all over again.

"Tell me you want me, too," he whispered, his voice raw.

Closing my eyes, I leaned up and managed to smack a kiss onto his chest. I sunk back down and reopened them, "I do want you," I whispered, my voice aching for him, "I'll always want you, Edward. Always."

I think that did it, because he closed his eyes, groaned, and put his mouth onto mine again. His kiss was very heated, very passionate, unlike anything I had ever experienced with him ever before.

"Tell me," he pleaded, into my lips, "Tell me you're mine. Tell me!" It was a needy plea.

"Yours," I breathed weakly. I wrapped my arms over his shoulders, pressed my fingers gently into the hard, rigid flesh of his back, and held onto him tighter.

He grasped my chin in his hand and kissed me again, positively hard. I moaned, and he moaned also, like we're in sync. It was bizarre. I never knew anything could be quite like this. So intense, and intimate.

"Say it," he ordered again, softly. He paused his movements, his mouth an inch or so from mine, his breathing harsh over my lips. It was agonizing to be so close, and yet to not be able to kiss him back. "Again, say it again." He leaned back to look me in the eyes, his scorchingly intense and searching.

I blinked up at him momentarily, startled by his incessant pleading that I make the declaration that I'm his, over and over again. Doesn't he already know? Didn't I just already say it a few seconds ago?

"I'm yours, Edward," I whispered gently, nodding.

It seemed I was convincing enough, because this most amazing boyish smile overcame his face at my words, and he laughed quietly, beyond pleased.

"You really _are_ mine, aren't you?" he murmured, voice alarmingly husky in satisfaction. Leaning down, he gently pressed a kiss into my forehead, and I breathed everything in to try and calm myself.

Everything was, sort of, all tickles and kisses. His small amount of chest hair would constantly tickle me, whenever he moved above me. And, I loved every part of it.

But, the part I was truly waiting for, had yet to come.


	17. And So It Is

**Hey guys!**

**I want to thank you all so so much for your reviews! I loved reading every single one of them, they gave me giggles and made me insanely happy. I truly am glad that you're all still enjoying the story!**

**Here is part 2 of where we left off last chapter. Hope it's not a disappointment, but it is vital for all that spirals next!**

**Love you all so much! You're all truly the best!**

**Much love, until next (not too long) update.**

**xx**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter Seventeen<em>

"Bella, I just want to be with you forever," he whispered, running his hand over the side of my cheek.

His look was so intense, so meaningful, that I just about fell apart completely.

"_Forever_," I breathed shallowly, in agreement.

"And, are you ready for me?" He breathed unevenly, removing his underwear.

I couldn't help it, I just... stared down at _it_. I was fixated by it almost, because, though I was ashamed to admit, I hadn't even seen a male's proper anatomy in the flesh before. And his, well... it looked a little bigger than I imagined. He was already aroused; It was already standing full-erect, and that disarmed me a little. The skin was taut, the foreskin pulled back, and the head purple. I felt incredibly daunted. How was it even meant to fit? What was I even meant to do when it's in there?

My breathing was harsh at the sight of it, as well as the rest of him. "Well, it's certainly... bigger, than I imagined," I blurted out stupidly, without thinking.

"Big?" He raised an eyebrow, and I knew then, by his light tone of voice I had him amused. He put his hands on either side of my head, and leaned down, pressing his forehead gently into mine, as he hovered over me. He rubbed the tip of his nose on mine tenderly. "Only for _you_."

I giggled nervously at his words, unable to help it. I still couldn't believe we were actually really going to do this!

"Are you okay?" He asked softly, maybe picking up on my nerves. Either way, I hoped I wasn't being too obvious. "Are you sure you still want to do this?"

"Please, I'm positive." It came out a desperate beg for it. How embarrassing.

Convinced, he placed his hands onto the mattress near my head and raised himself, up and over until, slowly, I felt him position the tip of his hard erection at the entrance of me.

I tried to control my breathing, focusing hard on keeping it steady, rather than dwelling over what was about to happen to my body. I swallowed loudly, as I glanced up at him. Immediately, his eyes met mine, and they were concentrated, focused, on my face. His mouth was slightly open, and, a moment later, I became aware that he was trembling. His shoulders were trembling, making the whole bed vibrate underneath me.

The realization hit me comfortably, and made me feel a surge of contentment; He was just as nervous, as I was. Just as frightened about what we were going to do together, for the first time, even though he most likely had already done it a few times before me.

Lifting my hands, I wrapped them gently around his forearms and added pressure, my attempt in reassuring him that this was what I wanted, and that I wanted it to begin, right now, without anymore delaying.

His eyes closed tight, and he blew out air through his nose.

"You must tell me if I'm being too rough with you, Bella," he whispered softly, urgently, eyes still closed. "And, if I am, I'll stop at once. You mustn't be afraid to tell me."

_Goddamn it,_ my mind was screaming in agony, _Just make love to me already!_

I squeezed his arms again, and finally, his eyes reopened to focus back down onto me. They were bright with building anticipation.

"I will," I breathed out weakly. "I will, first thing, if it starts to get too uncomfortable."

"All right," he whispered, pleased. Then, a look of determination came across his face. "I'm going to ease into you now, slowly. Very slowly, and gently, I promise."

Though he said it to warn me, still it didn't give me enough time to actually prepare for how it would feel, once he did. He eased into me, very slowly, pushing his way inside. I groaned, and felt my eyes pinching shut. I felt like I was about to burst open, any minute, but surprisingly, I didn't. His breathing grew harsh and very loud over the Elvis Presley music that was still playing softly around us in the background, and he groaned through his teeth, once I thought he was fully in. It was not a very pleasant feeling, to say the least. I felt so full, so stretched.

"God, you're so warm," he moaned, in what I thought was appreciation over it. "It's absolutely amazing."

My eyes widened, as I tried to get accustomed to the feeling. It wasn't easy. It felt overwhelming, intrusive to my body.

"I'm going to start moving very slowly, darling," he breathed anxiously, after a few minutes of being still and thoughtful, letting me get used to him being inside of me.

"Ok," I breathed back. I was struck by how afraid I sounded.

He eased forward, very slowly, the lower half of his body pushing over mine. I gasped, and quietly whimpered. My hands flew up instantly to clasp over his shoulders, tightly. I just needed something to hold onto- some part of him to cling to. I watched his face, very carefully, as he withdrew slowly out of me, then eased back in again, less as gentle as before, but still gentle enough.

Oh. Okay. I think now I might be beginning to understand why people find sex pleasurable, because it hadn't been the first time he did it inside of me.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut again, and breathed out of his mouth, very quickly and unevenly. His whole body was trembling again, sending the whole mattress quivering wildly.

"Are you okay?" I whispered, feeling immediately concerned.

Instead of answering, he nodded his head mutely, and then leaned down and kissed me on the mouth, hard. And then, he started again, to a more faster rhythm, sliding in and out of me, skin slapping against skin rapidly.

He shifted back down with his elbows on the mattress, his whole body covering me, pulling me deeper into the bed underneath him. I moaned, and then he moaned, and then I felt something intense building up inside of me. The whole bed was shaking with each and every thrust and cry of pleasure. The headboard was thudding against the wall behind it gently.

I flung my arms tightly around his neck, as the feeling grew... and grew. I was starting to feel weightless, like I was floating across earth. I felt myself begining to stiffen around his erection, I felt my body change in unexplainable ways; My toes curled, I was gasping out moans and other expressions of pure pleasure, and my mind was completely blank, because... all that truly existed... was this sensation developing inside of me... and him... him moving in and out of me, his breathing matching my own unsteady, urgent pace. He was whispering my name raggedly underneath his breath, and I might have even been doing the same.

Only, I was too far gone to notice. But not enough to be completely ignorant of what was happening.

He was reaching the same intense climax the second I was; I was more positive of it than anything else in the entire world, in that moment. Because... his movements slowed... a pained moan rippled through his teeth and... his hands shot up to grip something above my head in between his hands.

"I love you," he groaned breathlessly and, before I knew it, I was coming undone at his words and evaporating into jelly. My legs felt completely numb. My brain was floating around somewhere inside my head, as a brilliantly blinding white light flashed through it.

And then, I knew a second later, he was right in the moment with me, because he cried out my name fervently, thrusting one single last time, then stilled inside me immediately after. What happened next, had me wondering if I were so far gone from the orgasm I had just experienced, that I was hallucinating.

So suddenly, a puff of stark-white feathers exploded into the air around us, floating and drifting, slowly... slowly, until a few landed on Edward's bare back.

"Oh my god!" I threw my head back, and laughed hysterically. Only, Edward didn't find it as hilarious as I did.

For a moment, he just laid there, inside me, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss into my collarbone, and then, embarrassment spread across his face, and he pressed his face into my stomach, rubbing the tip of his nose into my overheated flesh.

"Hey," I whispered, trying to get his attention, "What's wrong?"

He lifted his face out of my stomach, and peered over at me. His eyes were heavy-lidded and dopey from the orgasm he had experienced, and he frowned at me. He still looked like the most gorgeous man I had ever seen in my entire life, even with his hair all ruffled and his serious, foreboding expression.

"It's nothing, honestly." He moved to lay next to me, shoulder to shoulder, and slipped an arm around my neck, pulling me into his chest, with a strained smile. I melted against him, wonderfully exhausted and happy. And then, I burst out laughing again; Loudly, and uncontrollably, because... he had white feathers in his hair, and I really ought to have not found it as cute as I did.

"What?" He whispered, self-consciously. "Are you laughing at me? Did I do something funny?"

"No." I smiled up at him. "You just have feathers in your hair! It's surprisingly cute!"

"Oh, well." He nuzzled into my cheek. "I'm glad you think so." His hand rubbed up and down my bare back, over and over, until I shuddered against him.

I really wanted to stay here, in this bed with him, forever and ever. Only, realistically, I couldn't. I had to get home or else Charlie would be panicking.

I leaned in to kiss him. He kissed me back, very slowly, until I arched back to look him in the eyes. "I really have to get dressed now. Do you mind dropping me off home? I don't want Charlie to worry."

He was silent for a few minutes, just staring back into my eyes. I could tell he was very reluctant on having me leave the bed. I pushed off his chest and, with his hand, he whimpered and pulled me back down gently, holding me in place. For a few minutes, I was his willing prisoner confined in his loving, strong arms, until he finally let me. He combed the hair off my sweaty forehead with his fingers, and then gave me a quick feathery kiss on the tip of my nose. My breath hitched in my throat.

"All right, love. Whatever you say." He definitely sounded disappointed and, really, I couldn't blame him. I would have rathered nothing more, than to stay in bed with him all evening, just kissing and cuddling, and talking.

I slid off the bed, stretching various muscles and bending over. I felt a bit sore and tender in a few different places, but it wasn't unbearable in the slightest. I didn't steal a look at Edward, when I retrieved my clothes off the floor, and headed into the bathroom to change. I knew it would only tempt me into lingering around for longer.

After I got done dressing, I finally saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I truly looked like a girl hopelessly in love. I was even glowing. And, my hair... oh boy. I grinned to myself. I had sex-hair! Bella Swan, last girl in the universe to ever have it, had sex-hair!

"What are you smiling about over there?"

Edward's voice suddenly came from in the doorway, and I gasped. He really had to stop scaring me.

And, still, I was grinning like a lunatic. "Nothing." I knew I wasn't very convincing.

My mouth went completely dry, as he casually came to stand by me near the mirror. He wasn't wearing a shirt, but he had put on his jeans. I scrutinized his face carefully in the mirror. I couldn't assess his mood at all. He didn't look sad about what we just did, but he didn't exactly look superbly thrilled, either. Didn't he enjoy himself, like I did?

"How are you feeling?" he asked quietly, assessing me with his eyes himself.

"Great." I shrugged. "Better than great, actually. What about you?"

"I'm excellent." _Yes, he was definitely excellent. _I blushed and then, suddenly, I was blabbering again- like always, whenever I was nervous or flustered...

"Do you wear contacts?" I blurted out, unthinkingly.

He blinked down at my reflection in the mirror. "What?

"It's just... I saw eye contacts in your bathroom cabinet. I wasn't snooping around, I swear. It just... surprised me. I never knew you needed them."

"Yeah, uh. I'm partially blind in one eye."

"Sure, you are," I rolled my eyes. "There is something different about you, isn't there?"

"Darling, what are you _even_ talking about?"

I turned from my reflection, and lifted my hands to cup his face in them. Surprisingly, he didn't want any of my touch at all. He gripped both of my wrists, not too tight but still forcefully, with strength, and pulled my hands down into the direction of his bare chest instead, holding them together in both hands.

"Are you sick? Is that why you have blood in your drawer? Do you need transfusions, or something? You can tell me, I won't mind!"

I tried, with difficulty, to pull my hands free. I wanted to comfort him, only still, he refused to let me in.

"Please, let go of my hands," I whispered up to him, desperately.

"Then don't touch me with them," he pleaded unevenly, and that hurt me. It stung. He was rejecting me.

"Why not?" I challenged loudly. He shook his head, and winced. "Why don't you want me touching you? You don't want me anymore, since we just had sex? Was that your main accomplishment- take my virginity? Is _that_ it?"

"Don't be ridiculous." His voice was aloof, defensive. He was pushing me away.

Finally, he released my wrists, and slipped further away from me. I stared at his tense back, eyes furiously confused, and wet with tears.

How did things change between us so dramatically? What? Why?

Just half an hour ago, he was kissing me, being completely tender with me. And, now, he was shutting me out completely. With his bare back facing me, shoulders squared defensively, I saw it; A small, faded scratch mark on his left shoulderblade. I inched closer, slowly. I didn't want him to notice. It was definitely a scar. White, raised, bumpy skin in comparision to everything else. Holy crap. Was that a bite mark? A bite mark? Suddenly, I blanched in both sheer shock, and startling realization.

Suddenly, it all came together.

The cold skin- the purplish tinge to his fingers, the lack of circulation. The hard strength of his back muscles, the ridgity, when I remembered clawing my fingernails down it while we were in the middle of sex...

Everything was coming to me, fast, and relentlessly. But, it was hardly logical. Or reasonable, even. Maybe I was simply being paranoid? Do they even exist? Surely not, impossible. A tale in old fables, that was purely it.

But then, all those times... not once did I see him ever eat anything. Not even once. He would simply feed me, and watch intently, like me eating was the most incredible sight to him.

Then, there was at... Michael Newton's party. No blood. He hadn't even sustained a single injury whatsoever. It was truly as if he was untouchable. He truly had thick skin, but for entirely different reasons altogether, I was vastly realizing.

The inexorable strength. The bag of blood.

Naive. That's how I have been, this whole time.

_Incredibly_ naive.

And, if it were true... if those things truly did exist out of storytales, and if he _were_ in fact one...

_Vampire._

Oh crap. A hand flew up to cover over my mouth. My stomach, and mind, was reeling. If it were, in fact, true, if he truly was something, like that, then I- -

What was I even meant to think? How was I even meant to feel? The first guy I found myself foolishly in love with... and he wasn't even like me.

I had to know, right then and there. But, really, how were you even meant to ask such a thing? Something so incredibly ridiculous, without having him laugh in my face and call me out on my utter stupidity? It was impossible, beyond explainable.

It was hardly realistic.

But then, perhaps, there was another reasonable explaination? Perhaps, he was right, in all that he said to me? Reynaud's Disease. That's simply it. I was overreacting, I just had to be. Right?

Hope blossomed wildly within, and I was almost laughing at myself internally for even thinking it.

Edward turned to glance over at me. Maybe the expression on my face was weird, because his eyes widened. One hand rose to scratch the back of his neck. "What? What_ is_ it, Bella?"

"The scar on your back," I whispered, shakily. "A bite." I whispered it even before I could stop myself, "Are you even human? Are you even like me, at all?" There was accidental disgust in my tone.

I watched, in a horrifying split second, as his face and stature completely changed, from defensive, and confused, to deeply insulted and...

The look on his face revealed it all.

His entire face darkened, until he was someone else. Someone I did not know completely. His cheeks hollowed out, his skin went even paler and waxy than I ever imagined healthy, or natural, and his eyes... Now I knew why he required contacts, because if he hadn't, his true coloring would have seeped through eventually and give him away.

And those _eyes_...

_ They_ were not human. They would have blown it for him within a heartbeat. The pulpils were pitch-black, and heavily dilated, but his irises; they were a deep red. A deep, unnatural red.

This was the _real_ him, not the gentle, sweet loving facade of him that I loved and believed I knew so much. This was him, take it or leave it. No more pretenses.

I felt goosepimples rise all over my arms at the unfamiliar sight of him. He felt too unfamiliar to me, a stranger now, and it pierced me with a staggering sense of loss.

He tongued his bottom lip, as he looked me up and down, very appraisingly. Something glinted there in his unnatural eyes, and the side of his mouth lifted in amusement. It was almost as if he had reverted into another person completely.

My heart was pounding in my ears, and I started feeling so so scared. I couldn't stand looking at him anymore, when he was like that. The shift in his appearance made me sickened inside, and I averted my eyes quickly, and stared down at my fingers.

Anything, was better than having to look at him...

"Does it bother you?" He asked softly, and I felt my eyes close over the sound of his voice. His voice was the only similar thing about him. His voice was the same Edward I remembered, and what I heard in his voice, was fear. Fear I'd abandon him for good over this.

"I don't know." I was whispering down at my fingernails, while I picked at them.

I needed to be alone, indefinitely. Away from him. This was all too much for my mind to take in- surely, he would understand that.

I took in a deep breath, pushed my feet forward, and went to brush past him out of the bathroom and into the hallway.

Just as I was nearing past him, he reached out and gripped me by the elbow. He wrenched me back gently. "Where are you going?" he murmured, his voice so full of despair and confusion. "Please don't say this changes anything. _Please_. I love you _so_ much, and I was frightened of scaring you away. I would have told you, _in time_, when-"

"- Edward, please, I need time to think!"

"About what?" he growled.

"_Everything_," I whispered resignedly. I still couldn't face looking at him, at how much he had changed with it all. "About what you are, what you... look like. It's a little hard for me to swallow right now."

All the references were there... all the little hints. Only, I'd been too blind, too immersed, and consumed, in all that is him, without taking his words into face-value...

_"That's very fortunate, because Bella, you smell so delicious already. Why mask up your natural scent and taint it?"_

_"You taste even better than I imagined. Not as good as the taste your blood would be however, of course..."_

Now it all seemed apparently clear to me. This wasn't what I had invisioned at all. First_ boyfriend_, first _time_... with someone who wasn't even human. Someone, who probably didn't ever have a heartbeat, and did all these gruesomely unnatural things, like taste someone's blood.

I thought love was unconditional. Now, I wasn't so sure. I was left feeling so confused inside, and so...betrayed.

Because he lied to me. About everything. _And, how was I meant to move on and live with that?_

"You said, you wanted to be with me forever," he said quietly, repeating my words from before. And, _yes_, I had said them, and meant them- _back then_. But now... now I wasn't so sure. I didn't think I could ever be with him, when he was like this. Not when I knew what he truly was now.

"I _did_," I croaked. "But I didn't think it would mean something different to you. There is _no_ forever for me. There's no _such_ thing." Hot, unwelcome tears prickled in my eyes.

"Don't say that." His voice was low, and full of hurt.

My heart felt like it was being clenched painfully by a set of metal tweezers.

I wrapped my arms around my chest, and squeezed, tightly- like it would somehow be able to reach right in, and soothe it all away. "But it's_ true_, Edward. What do you want me to say? I'm not like you. I'll never be like you, and, because of that, I don't think this would ever work. I thought you were the same as me, you lied to me the whole time by putting up this facade. Then again, I ought to have been smarter to actually figure it out earlier."

His breathing was growing erratic at my words. I could tell he was more than just hurt- angry, frustrated.

So suddenly, that it was taking all of my energy with it, he was reaching for me, backing me up against the cold stone wall. Now my breathing was matching his- though for a completely different reason altogether. I was scared, then. Truly frightened. I felt my heart had jumped up into the bed of my throat along with it. He ran his long fingers through my hair, pulling it up and away, to the side of my neck. The coldness of the smooth white tiles behind me was suddenly amplified against my skin, when I was flattened between him and it, equally as chilly as the ceramic.

I placed my hands on his upper arms, and gently pushed. Naturally, it was no luck. I could have been pushing steel for all the good it served me.

"After this is over, and done with," he breathed into my forehead raggedly, as one hand curled over the side of my neck; fingers digging in eerily to my pulsepoint, "I'll take you back to your father, and you can say your farewells, all right? Then, we can start on forever."

"_What_?" I panted. My head was throbbing with confusion. What does he mean? "Say my _farewells_ to Charlie? _What are you_-?"

I was too frightened to look him directly in the face somehow, but a moment later, I had managed. He gazed back down at me, eyes still red and hooded, with desire? Blood-lust? I wasn't quite sure which.

"I know it'll be difficult," he said, voice low. The pad of his thumb started rubbing up and down my neck. I shivered, and winced. "It'll be hard, for both of you. It isn't everyday a father has to give away his seventeen year old daughter, but we promised on forever."

I was completely thrown off by what he was saying, and it increased the fear within me tenfold.

I was protesting loudly by the time he pulled my back spine-straight into the wall, and leaned forward. My eyes were wide, glued to his face. And, what I saw there... His top lip was curled over the slightest bit, so his teeth were showing. I just didn't know what was going on, or what he was even meaning by what he said.

_Until_, a moment later...

"Keep still," he warned, his voice strained, urgent. "I've never done this before, and we don't want any mishaps. Frankly, I couldn't stand losing you over this."

_I wanted it all to stop. He was terrifying me!_

"Stop it!" I screamed, through the fear building within. "Edward, just _stop_!"

Finally, I managed to shuffle across the wall. And then, I was running.

Running for my life to get away from him.

I burst out of the bathroom, and ran through the hallway into the main bedroom area. I didn't know how far I could get without him reaching me, but that only made me sprint harder.

"Bella!" He was screaming. "Where are you going?"

The sound of his screaming caused all the little hairs on the nape of my neck to stand up on edge. My pulse raced in fright; Fright, because he sounded so long-gone. So hurt, broken, and confused. And lethally furious.

Without a moment's worth of hesitation, I pressed myself into running.

I wrenched open the front door of his apartment, and ran though the long hallway to get to the elevator to take me down to the foyer ground floor.

My whole body, from neck downwards, felt it were aching. Aching with a staggeringly profound sense of loss, and despair. My heart felt broken, like it had been crushed into a million miniscule pieces, unmendable for life.

The disturbing sound of thumping noises and agonized, broken crying, urged me to pick up my pace. I was panting, and sweating profusely, by the time I reached the elevator. I pushed on the button and, at true last, the doors slid open with a tinny ding.

I huddled against the wall, as I stabbed into the control to take me to ground floor. My heart was hammering in my ears, and just as the elevator doors started to close to make it's descend to the lower floors, I caught sight of him.

It turned out he hadn't bothered running after me after all...

He was outside his apartment, in the hallway, and what he was doing crushed me deeply; He was still shirtless, pummelling his fists into the wall opposite the door of his apartment at a frenzied pace, wailing, and it looked so shocking and tragic.

Once the elevator doors were fully closed, and he had been removed from my view, I clutched a hand over my chest, full of aching, and wanting, and creeping feelings.

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><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed this chapter? I know some of you mightn't be very happy with Bella's reaction, but it's vital to the story of where it'll go next. Thanks so much for reading! Love you guys!<strong>


	18. You Can't Keep Me Out

**I own nothing to do with Twilight. **

**Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews, and alerts. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter (I apologize that it's a bit short, but it's preparing for the big event next chapter! Thank you all again so much! Hope you will go kind of me after this one! **

**So worried I've disappointed you all! See you next update, hope you enjoy!**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Eighteen<strong>_

"You're home early, hon."

I didn't respond to his observation; I didn't know how to, or where to even begin. I avoided looking at him, plopping myself down into a chair. My eyes still felt wet, and my nose was definitely running. I definitely needed a tissue, only I couldn't seem to bring myself to care. I was beyond caring.

"I know I'm early," I murmured, tonelessly. Still, I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

Not even when he brought me over my plate of steaming-hot dinner. It was lasagna, usually my favorite meal. Only, then, I felt different. Every part of me felt like it was aching; My legs, and heart, in particular. I had ran home all the way from Edward's apartment. It took me roughly around thirty-five minutes, and I felt as if I had a million little blisters growing on each of my feet.

But the pain was a small price to pay. I just had to get away from him. He lied to me, about everything. About who he was- especially. We had been dating for a little over six months now, and he lied the whole time! I just didn't know where to even start on trying to forgive him for it. It seemed impossible to me.

Plus, I had a dreaded feeling, deep down inside, that if we continued on with this relationship, it just would not work out in the long run. It just wasn't compatible. He probably did terrible things, like consume blood off humans. He probably even had an alterior reason for being with me; Maybe he wanted my blood, after all. He probably saw me as this potential meal, rather than an actual person he loved and could sympathize with.

They say that real love is looking past the faults of another, and accepting them whole-heartedly for who they are.

I didn't feel it was the same for me. It didn't mean that I didn't love him as much as I believed I did, the truth has just altered things between us beyond fixing, in my eyes. I didn't know what to think.

_What if he kills me one day?_

_What if he only started wanting to be with me, because he only felt attracted to the smell of my blood?_

All these questions were whizzing by unrelentlessly inside my mind. I felt, I needed to know everything. There was so much more I needed him to tell me, in order to make me fully understand. And, yet, at the same time, I wanted to steer clear of him. I felt a bit scared of him, now. I gave him my heart completely. I gave him my virginity, I gave him my forgiveness, and my trust. And yet, he was keeping it a secret from me this whole time.

He wasn't even _really_ a man. He was so much _more_ than that.

I realized then, throughout my restless searching for understanding, I had just been staring down at my plate of dinner, picking the mince apart with my fork. I glanced up sheepishly to find Charlie was staring at me. I wondered what I looked like, in his eyes. Dead to the world? A sobbing mess?

"What happened to the financial advisor, Edward? You didn't have any plans to see him after school, like you usually do?" His tone was distinctively suspicious.

At the sound of... _his_ name, my fork clattered loudly against my plate. Now, that had truly done it. That had truly killed my appetite for good.

I glanced up at Charlie. He had his fork hanging midair to his mouth, but he was watching me carefully. His dark eyes took in my eyes, which were probably puffy and swollen from crying uncontrollably this afternoon, soon as I got home.

I knew then, I had to tell him. _Parts_ of it, anyhow.

"Dad, we broke up." My words were quiet, and raspy with exhaustion. "He's not the person I thought he was. So, I ended it. It's over now."

His mouth dropped open, and I could see the shock written all over his face. Clearly, it was news to him. "Oh, hon. I'm sorry." He looked as if he was having some difficulty in absorbing it. "I didn't think that would happen so suddenly. You seemed to really like him, huh?"

_Like_, was definitely an understatement. But that didn't matter anymore.

"Well, it did happen. It's finished with."

"Are you... doing okay, kiddo? Listen, I know how hard a breakup can be, at any age. I'm still hurting now, whenever I think back to when your Mother sprung the divorce papers onto me."

A flare of pity sparked within. "Oh, Dad. How did you... you know, manage to get over it? Does it still...hurt?"

He laughed, a little weakly. "'Course, it still hurts, hon. The wound is still there, deep inside my gut. It just gets... easier to deal with, come the next day, and the next..." He ran a hand over his bristly moustache, wiping a few smears of cheese sauce from the lasagna away. "How did... uh, how did he take it, though?" His eyes were ablaze with concern. "I know breakups are something you can't ever see coming, not from even a mile off. Did you... end it gently?"

I thought back to this afternoon, and shivered. A cold trickling of sweat seemed to break out all over. I felt a bit guilty then, because, really, I hadn't truly ended it. I just did the most irresponcible thing, in running. My mind felt truly swamped though, clustered beyond reason. I couldn't act appropriately; My one main instinct, was to run. To flee, and get as far away from him as possible, before he tried to kill me, or eat me, or do... something.

"I don't think there is ever a way to end a relationship gently, Dad," I whispered. "Eitherway, both parties involved get hurt."

"Well, look at you." He smiled at me, sadly. "My girl's got herself a mouth full of wisdom." His look was proud for some reason; He was beaming over at me.

Really, I didn't deserve any of that at all...

I forced a smile, and pressed myself into eating again. I picked up my fork, and cut through a small slice of lasagna. The dark mince oozed out of the filling, and it made my stomach churn. I just couldn't stomach anything at all, let alone eat a single mouthful. My mind was too worked up over everything; My body was too tense.

I set my fork back down onto the side of my plate gently. "Dad, I'm sorry," I sighed, "But I really can't eat anything. Can I put this in the fridge and heat it up later, once I feel better?"

"'Course, you can." His tone was light, and casual. "I understand, believe me. You can't eat anything, because you're feeling too numb to even swallow anything down. I've been through it before, honey. Lot's of people have, your age, and older. Remember that. We all go through it!"

I knew he was saying that to try and ease my mind off of it a bit. Only, it didn't quite help me much at all. I knew something that would though, at least a smidgen. A nice, hot shower. A nice, _long_, hot shower.

"Thank you," was all I could manage, as I took my plate into the kitchen along with me. I stowed my leftovers into the bottom shelf in the fridge, along with my cutlery.

I was aching to hop into the shower to relieve some of this tension out.

My mouth felt dry, and parched, from the small bit of lasagna I had consumed. The mince was definitely too salty. I turned towards the sink to get myself a nice drink of cool water from underneath the tap.

Finding myself a glass from inside the bottom cupboard, I switched on the faucet and let the clear water stream into the glass until it very nearly overspilled at the rim. Just as I rested against the sink counter, looked outside the lace curtains of the small window into the back of our house, and had lifted the glass and held it level to my lips, something alarming immediately caught my eye.

A black Jeep was parked outside; the windows scrolled halfway down. The exterior was dirty, and clumps of dirt were stuck to the black, glossy paint.

I was fairly certain I could see two people inside. There was a young man and woman, and they were in the middle of talking seriously to each other. She smiled, and then he tilted his head back, like he was laughing at her. And then, the door on the side of my window was being pushed open, the male was climbing out of the car, and looking ahead at someone.

I didn't recognize the male at all; He was tall, dressed in a black knitted pullover jumper, and equally as black, acid washed jeans. He looked thin, and his hair was cut below his shoulders, wiry, and a light blonde. His complexion was very pale, and that was what made him stand out the most to me.

A second later, I realized he was staring ahead at something out of my range. I lunged to the wall, and craned my neck over, scanning everywhere with my eyes. And, yet, I couldn't see a single darned thing.

What the hell was this guy looking at? It just didn't make any sense. I couldn't see anyone.

Feeling faintly disappointed, I curled my lips over the smooth rim of my glass, and took some water into my mouth. It got caught in my throat, went down the wrong windpipe, until I found myself gagging, because- -

_Edward._

He came sailing up to the other guy, his movements small and gait hunched.

The other guy smiled happily and, next thing I knew, he was grabbing Edward by the neck and pulling him in to embrace him. It appeared as if they were two long-lost, old friends, almost. I didn't know what the guy meant to Edward exactly, but... even after everything, I found myself caring.

And then, bewilderingly, there were two more of them. Two men suddenly came out from in the cover of trees to stand by them.

One was dark-skinned, with long dreadlocks dangling below his shoulders. The other, was just as pale as Edward and his friend; his light brown hair bunched up into a tight ponytail. They all shook hands with one another, and patted each other on the shoulders, like they were getting ready and bracing themselves for something. I didn't quite know what.

Until what happened next, that was...

So suddenly, it left my stomach reeling, the pony-tailed one glanced right up at me, as I was standing there. I realized a moment later, I had been holding in my breath. I was starting to feel dizzy.

He gripped Edward by the shoulder, bringing his attention, and then, he lifted his arm and was pointing... up...up to right where I was looking through the window.

_Oh crap._

Edward looked up at me next, and it was the change in his face that startled me the most. There was just nothing there. He truly looked dead, as he stared up at me, his eyes holding me in. Exactly like before, with our week's seperation, the effects were left there on his appearance. It was unnerving. Only when he reluctantly broke the gaze to bring his lifeless eyes back over to his alarming group of friends, was I able to turn away. I sunk down onto the kitchen tiles, clutching a hand over my chest. My heart felt it were thumping a million times a minute, in both fear, and shock.

I didn't know what they were all planning in meeting together, like this. But I could only assume it was for nothing all that good.

Were they all banning together to come for me? Were they coming to hurt Charlie? Was this some way Edward felt necessary to scare me with, to seek revenge and intimidate me with, over how I reacted to him this afternoon? Was he-

An urgent banging noise erupted from the front door. It was him; it _had to be_ him!

I got to my feet, and ran as fast as possible towards where Charlie was to warn him. Only, it was too late. He was already standing by the door, looking out through the crack at who I knew was Edward.

And, Edward, it _was_.

"Charlie, sir." He sounded breathlessly ecstatic my father had answered. "I was really hoping, if you would be so kind, as to let me in for a few minutes to have a word with your daughter. There was a misunderstanding this afternoon, and I truly need to clear it up with her."

"No." The instance Charlie had said it, full of conviction, it made me instantly relieved. Everything felt lifted, then. "I don't think Bella wants to see you anymore. If she does, then I won't interfere. But, as for now, leave her alone. She's too upset to even think straight."

"But, sir, I-" Edward was arguing with him, desperately.

"Listen, I know break-ups are hard, kid. But she doesn't want to see you right now, do you understand? Don't make me have to get my gun!"

"Please, sir, you_ don't_-"

I stepped closer towards the door so that I could see his face. Soon as he realized I was standing there, he fell immediately quiet. We looked at each other, for the briefest of a second. He was breathing loudly. He was frustrated, and his eyes were bleak, bloodshot, and begging. He was wearing his contacts again, of course.

"Bella?" Charlie was staring at me, judging my expression with his eyes. He was trying to figure out what I wanted, in that moment. "You want to let him in, and talk?"

I shook my head violently, my mouth clamped together. I didn't think I could quite handle being near him right now.

"Bella, please, darling, I-" His voice was a low, hoarse whine. "Please, let me just-"

And, at that, Charlie closed the door right into Edward's face, cutting off his pleadings instantly.

"Thank you," I whispered, in relief. I threw my arms around Charlie's waist, and hugged him tightly. He croaked out a hesitant laugh.

"Geeze, since when do we hug, Bells? You haven't hugged me since you were around, uh..._ eleven_!"

I smiled fondly into his shirt. "Since now, Dad. We hug since now."

He patted me on the top of my head with a content sigh, all his movements uncertain and awkward. But I loved it. Now, I wouldn't want it any other way, because, after what Edward said, about saying my farewells to Charlie, it just made me want to appreciate my time with him even more.


	19. A Mere Roadtrip

**_I still own nothing to do with Twilight- never have, never will. Never will change. I just love the movies, and books._**

**OKAY... So, I am so worried about this chapter!**

**I have a feeling it will be a major disappointment and that I've let you all down... I honestly hope not :'( I'm literally biting my nails in anxiety! Please be gentle! I'll go hide now! I still love you guys, though! You're all so wonderful, and I cherish and appreciate you all so much! I get so flattered, and, as I said, I'm so sorry about this chapter! If you really do hate it, go ahead and say so! I am hating it! :( XX**

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><p><strong><em>Chapter Nineteen<em>**

He just wasn't giving up. I wasn't sure whether it was exactly Edward or not, but it appeared to be.

Roughly every half an hour or so, there would be a loud and urgent knock on the front door. I knew he wanted to see me. I knew he wasn't going to give up that easily. But I _wished_ he would, even just for one night. I needed time, and space, alone to think. Why couldn't he see that? I could tell Charlie was beginning to get frustrated with it. He would look at me, while we were watching the television, and ask; _Why don't you just go out there and talk to him? Maybe that'll make him relax and settle down enough to go away?_

This time was the last and final straw for Charlie.

"I'll go check on it, Bells," he said, looking anxious. "I'll see if it'll help. I'll just tell the kid he needs to let it be for a night, or two. I'll tell him to tone it down a notch, all right? He's acting as if this is killing him, or something. Surely, he's been through a breakup before, right? I mean, he looks old enough?"

I shrugged, and bit down on my lip with worry, while I watched him approach the door cautiously.

My heart sped up, because Charlie took his rifle out from his leather holster. I didn't want him attempting to shoot anyone, not even out of self-defense. I didn't feel that was necessary, at all. At least, I _hoped_ it wasn't.

Charlie got up real close to the wood, "I told you, kid, Bella_ doesn't_ want to-" His words fell alarmingly short, because the ear-splitting noise next managed to drown him out.

What followed next, was a loud clamour of noise. The sound of wood breaking, being crushed into splinters. Someone had managed to break through the front door.

Edward?

The blood drained from my entire face. _Oh, god. Please don't tell me he just hurt Charlie!_

"Dad?" I screamed, running out to him.

I felt all air leave my lungs; He was, thank god, still alive. But he was struggling. And he was not alone. The guy in the room was not Edward, though. He was the pony-tailed guy I had spotted previously outside in the backyard.

Him and my father were engaged in some sort of tug-of-war with my father's shotgun. Dad was grumbling, trying to keep a firm grip, his mouth twisted, eyes wide. The pony-tailed guy had his hand tugging on the rifle by it's long nozzle.

Immediately, and without thinking, I hurled myself onto his back with a charge and a determined scream.

"Get out!" I yelled, pounding my fists into his hard back with all my might. "Get out of our house!"

Only, it was no good.

He possessed the same strength Edward had. He was the_ same_ as him, I was sure of it.

He swung around, took clasp of my hands that were wrapped around his neck, and flung me off. A sharp stabbing sensation shot through my spine when my back hit the hardwood floor, catching me off-guard. Within the blink of an eye, he had turned on my father, and was staring down at me. There was something there in his look that bugged the life out of me. And those eyes, they definitely said it all.

There was no use in fighting against them any more. They were all the same. Charlie and I were just no match. Already, we were beaten, before we had even started.

"Ah, Isabella! Eddie's human soulmate! We meet at last!"

_What the-?_

"No, _get away_ from me!"

He lunged down and grabbed me by the ankle, jerking me forward, his pale fingers tightening hard into my skin. I kicked and kicked furiously. I screamed at the top of my lungs. I slapped him across the face.

Behind his back, another one came in, catching Charlie unprepared. He took hold of his arm, wrenched it back, and flung him face-first into the sofa. My eyes widened, and I whimpered at the sight. _No. No!_ They've got to stop hurting him! Charlie gave out a pained yelp.

"Stop it! Don't you _dare_ hurt him! _Stop_!"

Someone was grabbing me from behind, pulling me up off the cold floor by the forearms into them, shushing me. I recognized that voice at once. He was probably the only one I could get through to, the only one I could reach out to for help in order to make it all stop, no matter how unreasonable all of this was, and when... this was most likely all _his_ doing.

"Edward, tell them, _please_," I begged, through uncontrolled sobs. My hands flew up to cover over my mouth, as the pony-tailed guy stepped over to join the other one that was holding my father still, despite his brave, muffled protests through the seat. He handed his friend something, without an ounce of care; a strange circular object. A second later, it dawned onto me, that it was duct-tape. "Tell them _not_ to hurt him!"

"I told you." His voice came right behind me, deceptively calm. "I told you to keep the father out of this. Leave him there, but _don't_ hurt him anymore. Go ahead and duct-tape him, but that's_ it_."

Through my frenzied, blurred eyes, I saw the two did what Edward said at once. Edward had all the control.

And that only just made it all the more worse.

My stomach sank. I felt like I was going to throw up.

_He_ was the reason for all of this. No, I was._ I_ was the reason, because he was _my_ boyfriend.

"Come on, darling. We've got what we need now."

_Which, a second later, he made obviously clear, was... me._

"No!" I squealed, the second he lifted me up and tossed me over his shoulder. "_No_!"

It was as if I was a ragdoll to him. Nothing more.

I fought with all my might, despite being aware of how hopeless it was.

I punched him in the back. I slapped him in the back of his thighs. Nothing worked. Nothing at all.

"Bella, it's just me," he was panting. "Calm down, baby. Please."

"No! You let me go! _Now_!"

"Here, let me show you how it's done, man. She's hysterical." Someone said near us, their voice gruff and deep, and, so abruptly, pain rippled through the side of my face, as a hand connected with it. My face puckered in sheer agony. My ears began to ring.

Last thing I tasted, was a bitter, salty tinge of blood coating my mouth, and heard Edward's high-pitched yelling that he specifically said he didn't want bone, nor hair, out of place, before my vision went dark, and I felt myself go limp as a noodle over his shoulder...

* * *

><p>I woke up gasping and groaning.<p>

The side of my face was still throbbing. I went to lift my hands to touch it and see if it's swollen, only I found myself unable to.

My heavy eyes flitted open.

First thing I realized, was that my wrists were tied into my lap by a man's tie. Second, there was Elvis Presley music blaring all over me. And, thirdly, I was not alone...

A hit of smoke reached and stung my nostrils. Somebody was smoking.

Dragging my wet eyes upwards, I discovered I was in somebody's car, and that they were speeding so fast, it was next to impossible to make anything out of the scenery.

Blinking heavily, I commanded my eyes to stay peeled open. I so wanted to go back to sleep, and yet, I didn't want to. I was too scared.

Someone's hand rubbed up against my left kneecap; probably their failed attempt in soothing me. A built-up wail got caught in my throat, as I tossed my head into their direction.

_Edward._

He was humming along with the music, eyes distracted on the road. He looked as calm and collected as a summer's day. He held a burning cigarette in his hand, and as he pressed it in between his lips, and drew in some smoke, I guessed then that that was where the smoke-smell was difting from.

As he blew out through his lips, he finally turned to glance over at me, as clouds of whitish-grey smoke submerged over his face. "You're finally awake, at last." There was soft astonishment in his tone. "How are you feeling, darling?"

My head swirled at his careless words. I felt then, that I was hyperventilating along with them. My entire body trembled in the car seat.

_How am I feeling, you ask? How do you think?_ I so wanted to say, yet could not even manage to find my voice.

"I really hope you're doing all right," he went on, nervously. "I never wanted it to be this way, honestly. But it just had to be. It was either me losing you for what I am, or me forcing you into coming along with me to understand. I suppose I took the easiest option I could live with." He just wouldn't quit talking. "I know it was incredibly selfish of me, but I need you, baby. You're everything to me. _Everything_."

He leaned over the console quickly to kiss me on the forehead, just below my hairline. I couldn't even push him away. My hands were bound too tightly. I couldn't even fight against it. I was rendered immobile.

Somehow, a moment later, I had managed...

"Get_ away_ from me!" A pitiful, high-pitched, squeaky rasp. "Stay the fuck away!"

He shot me a deeply hurt look. "Bella, language, please. That's hardly necessary."

He looked as if he was about to say something else but, rather instead, paused to unwind his window and flick his cigarette out. Once he wound it back up, he raked his fingers through his hair, and turned to me again.

"Look, I've always been searching for the right girl who is able to look past what I am, and who still wants to actually be with me despite it all." He chuckled to himself bitterly through his teeth, and the sheer anguish in his voice, demanded my attention. I just had to look at him and, when I did, he was focused on the road again, his eyes pained, small slits. "The first girl I find myself in love with... the_ first_ girl I've managed _not_ to kill... and, _goddamn it_, Bella..." He sighed heavily through his mouth. "She doesn't _even_ want to be with me anymore. I've scared her away."

He looked like he would cry, if he could. Maybe he couldn't- maybe that was another vampire thing about him that I didn't know, or understand, yet. It broke me into pieces, yet again, to the point where I wanted to cry myself. I started crying soundlessly. I just couldn't believe this was happening, that he was even remotely capable of doing such a thing, like this.

"I just... I needed some time," I whispered under my breath, miserably. "I... I was scared, when I found out! I thought you were going to eat me!" Speaking it out loud now, it did sound kind of stupid.

And, something about saying it, made him come undone completely. He looked at me; his mouth popping open, eyebrows raised.

"You assumed I was going to _eat_ you?" Suddenly, he shook with incredulous laughter. "Do you have _any idea_ how much of a sheer impossibility that even_ is_ for me?"

I was stunned. "W-what?"

"Bella, I can't eat." He laughed again, his voice softening, "How ridiculous. I reveal my true self to you, and first thing you assume, is that I am going to _eat_ you?" He was full of wide-eyed disbelief. "My body doesn't even fuction the way yours does, sadly enough. I can't eat- anything. Solid, or otherwise. I can only consume human blood. Drinking, _yes_. But eating..."

"Oh, sorry?" I muttered, sort of contritely.

"Even if that were possible for me, don't you think it would be hard for me? Why would I want to kill the girl I love, my soulmate?"

_Soulmate._ There goes that word again. He sure knew how to take the breath out of a girl. And make her feel sick, all at once.

"Then, if you love me, like you say you do, why are you doing this?" I motioned to my hands, bound and knotted together by his green tie. "Why did you send all those people to hurt... Ch-Char..." I couldn't even stomach saying his name. I did this to him. This was all _my_ fault!

Edward rolled his eyes. His mouth was pressed into a thin, tight line. He was frustrated again. "Why do you think I have to resort to doing this, Bella? It was the only option I had left. Don't you think I wish things were different? Do you think I wanted this to happen? I knew, either way, that things would most likely get out of control, and that I'd have to reign it in. I didn't intend for them to hurt your father like that." His face was full of guilt, his voice low and trembling. "But that's simply the way it is. Half of those guys, they've been out of civilization for a little while. They're out of touch with reality. They weren't thinking of the consequences that came along with their actions."

"Oh, and _you_ were?" I huffed out, in bitter disbelief. "What type of person sets people into the house of the girl they supposedly love, in order to intimidate them, steal her away and, in the meantime, assault her father? Is that how _you people_ show the person that you love them?"

"Bella, I never said I was a saint, all right? Sometimes I can be irrational, and I can do things without even thinking. _Clearly_, this afternoon, was one of those things. I never meant for things to get so out-of-hand. James was simply meant to keep him out of the way, and keep him duct-taped, in order for me to persuade you to somehow come with me so that we can live a long and happy life together, with no drama. That was simply it. And, besides, do you _think_ I'm enjoying having to keep you tied up, like some kind of captive?"

"Then, you _know_ what to do," I prompted. "_Untie_ me."

He laughed again, as he brought his eyes back over to me. "All right. I untie your wrists and let you have your hands all to yourself. Then, what?" He searched for it in my expression with his eyes.

I held his gaze, unwavering, because I wanted to make it clear on him...

Nothing. I would do_ nothing_. Not until we made a pit-stop, anyway.

Little pin-pricks of red were dotting around the green of his irises. His true color was gradually beginning to seep through again. Why hadn't I ever noticed it before? I paid a lot of attention, back then. I enjoyed observing everything about him, all his handsome masculinity. So, why hadn't I picked up on this?

Startling me, he slapped a hand onto the side of the steering wheel. I recoiled in my seat a bit.

"Then what, Bella?" He repeated, exasperated. I've made him impatient. _Good going, Bella_.

"Then nothing! I'll just sit here, and let you drive. I won't even make a move, I swear. My wrists are starting to ache, please!

"Fine," he surrendered, bitterly. "But I am only doing this, because I don't want you uncomfortable in any way. Not because I can't see through your lies and hideous acting!"

"I'm not lying, Edward! I'm telling you _the truth_!"

"Do I really appear that blind to you? I know what you're doing."

"I said, I_ won't_ do anything!"

He glanced over at me again, silently deliberating. And then, finally he started to warm up to the idea. But the instance he brought his hand over to start undoing the knot around my wrists, a cell phone rang out.

"What is that?" I gasped.

"It's my cell phone. Keep quiet. I need to answer it."

He dug through his trouser pockets, until he found it. With an irritated sigh, he held it up to his ear. I felt like screaming at the top of my lungs then, just to make the person on the other line heed my request for help. Only, with the look of warning on Edward's face, I took the responsible route and kept my mouth shut.

"Hello? Oh, yes. Thank you for calling me back on such short notice... For two, yes... We'll be staying there roughly for one night." My mouth fell open. Where was it that he was exactly taking me? "Also, how is the complimentary breakfast?" He paused for a moment, a peculiar smile coming across his face at what the other person on the opposite line was telling him. "Excellent. That'll do perfectly... Would it also be possible for you to attach flowers with that? Roses, would be best. It's my kind of.. theme... Excellent, thank you. We will be there in roughly two and a half hours. Mr and Mrs Masen, yes. Thank you _very_ much... Great, see you, then."

He hung up, and tossed his phone onto the dashboard.

_Mr and Mrs Masen? Holy hell!_

"Where are you taking me exactly? I guess it's safe to assume that, like on our first date at the restaurant, I'll have to pretend to be your wife? Why?"

He didn't look back over to me as he spoke next. He kept his eyes ahead on the road. "I thought, since we have a very long drive ahead of us, it would be more considerate of me to make a stop at a hotel on the way, so you can sleep. It's certainly more comfortable than the car seat, wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh, that's _so_ considerate of you," I retorted, heavy on the sarcasm. "You kidnap me, take me away from Charlie, and yet, you still have the time to be considerate. What a true gentleman." I rolled my eyes, and scoffed loudly. I couldn't believe him at all!

He just laughed loudly, like I was joking.

"Seriously, though?"

"Seriously, I _am_ taking us to a hotel where, yes, you may sleep." He turned to look at me, his expression deadly sincere. Well, that kind of had me relieved. That wasn't quite what I was expecting. "Then, in the morning, you will receive a complimentary breakfast of pancakes with maple syrup, and eggs." His voice was quiet and soft, unconcerned.

"Oh, aren't we spoiling our hostage?"

He scoffed. "Bella, I am _hardly_ holding you hostage, darling. Think of it as a mere... road trip."

"Oh, you're not holding me hostage, yet you've got my hands tied?"

With that, I made a loud grunt, twisting my wrists that way and this way, hoping to loosen the tie's hold. Of course, it doesn't effect it whatsoever.

"Stop, just stop it, please." He leaned over the console and grabbed the sides of my wrists with his hand, stilling them from their wriggling. "You'll really hurt yourself." He sounded concerned. How laughable.

"Fuck you!" I was shaking all over. "Take me back home_ this _instance, or,_ at least_, untie my hands! _Now_!"

"Go back to sleep, baby," he murmured, underneath his breath, high on irritation. "You're not thinking straight." At that, he pulled himself out another cigarette, slipped it in between his lips, and lit it. I slumped my head back into the seat, preparing myself for a smoke-induced headache to come. Seemed I really ticked him off; That was _human_.

But, no.

No! _He was the one_ _not thinking straight_ here! _He was the one that did all of this!_

**_Hope this chapter wasnt a disappointment? Please let me know xx_**


	20. Tasting The Wine

**As always, I own nothing to do with Twilight. Go figure lol.**

**I thank you all so so much from the bottom of my heart. As usual, I am nervous as a coiled spring lol. But, my excuse from now on will be that... Edward made me do it! He is in control, and wants to take the story where it goes.**

**Hoping you will enjoy. I apologize so much again if it's a bad one. I always get nervous about posting- I suppose that'll never change, though.**

**Love you guys, I absolutely loved reading your thoughts on the last several chapters. Hope you keep them coming, and that you find some enjoyment in this one! x**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Twenty<strong>_

"Edward, untie me."

It felt like I had said that, over and over, for the past hour, while he kept on driving. And, like every other time before it, he ignored me, smiled to himself, and pretended he hadn't heard me talking at all.

But the tie keeping my wrists clasped together was truthfully too tight. I couldn't move my hands an inch, and they were starting to throb and ache, whenever I tried. Clearly, he didn't care, though. His mind was set on getting us to our destination as quickly as possible.

I couldn't tell much of our whereabouts, but I took advantage of looking every chance I got. The scenery gradually changed, from thick, green bushlands, to a straight rocky road that seemed to go on forever and ever. There were just no signs, nothing to give me any inclination into whereabouts it was he was taking me to. It was starting to seriously stress me out.

Once we had reached the illuminated surroundings of the hotel, it was already dark out. The parking lot was virtually empty, aside from two or three cars parked in the spaces. I figured that whereever we were, not many people took a pit-stop to this particular hotel.

Not to cause suspicion, of course, once he found a space to park closest to the hotel, he whispered for me to keep quiet, and that he'll be back in a minute, or two. I watched, swelled up with irritation, as he climbed out of his car, relocked the doors, and approached into the dark opening of the hotel, probably to get the keys for our room. Naturally, he couldn't risk taking me in with him. What would people think, had he brought in this young girl, who most likely had a swollen jaw and puffy eyes?

Surely, they would have automatically assumed something sketchy was up.

He was jiggling the set of room keys around his thumb, as he came over to my side and unbuckled my car seat for me. Even then, while he bent in and was leaning over me, he was too close to me. I was dying to get away from him.

I slid carefully out of the car seat, hands still bound and held in the middle of my stomach. He didn't even think of untying me, as he opened the back of his car, pulled out a suitcase of whatever luggage he had brought for us, and strolled on ahead of me.

Halfway through walking, he tilted his head back to look at me. "Well, come on," he beckoned, gently. "We haven't got all night. I want to get you inside before it starts raining, and you get wet. The weathercast said so this morning."

Without really wanting to, I followed him obediantly. He was the only way I could get my hands untied, anyhow.

We went through an arched brick area, bringing us under shelter, to a red-paint peeling door. He stopped to set his case of luggage on the ground, thrusted the key into the lock, and threw the door open, wide.

Then, sending me gasping, he turned to me, bent down low, and took grasp of my waist. He lifted me, up, up, until I was in his arms, carrying me bridal style through the doorway.

What the hell?

He was grinning widely, as he set me carefully back down onto me feet. Then, to my relief, he brought his hands up to pull the tie apart by the threading so that I could have my hands free again.

I rubbed them, and let loose an appreciative sigh at having my hands all to myself again.

"This is so exciting," he was saying, as he went back and retrieved his case from outside the door. I heard the door close, then the faint clicking of the lock.

Oh, great. Now I was trapped in here with him, while he was experiencing some kind of erotomanic episode that made him act totally erratic.

His love for me, at the moment, was bat-shit crazy and unpredictable, nearing the point of suffocating and scary.

And, well, as for my love... it was virtually non-existant for him right now, over _everything_.

Breathing in through my nostrils, I observed the hotel room. It was a lot bigger than I imagined. The room I was in, had both a sleeping area- a large, purple-sheet covered doublebed- and a joined, small kitchen area. I was presuming the bathroom was in a seperate room; Knowing that placated me in some sense.

It was tastefully decorated, with egg-shell colored walls and several abstract paintings hanging on the walls. The lights were modern, round glass domes that lightly lit up the room. There was even a coffee machine in the kitchen.

"Whoa," I whispered, in awe. I couldn't help myself from saying it.

Really, I didn't want to encourage him and whatever sick, little fantasies he was hoping to indulge in with me here, but I couldn't stop it from flying out of my mouth.

"You sound impressed," he observed, a grin stretching wide across his face over it. He laid his heavy-looking suitcase down onto the bed. "I knew you would warm up to it, eventually. It would just take you some time." He sounded absurdly pleased.

Grudgingly, I took in what was meant to be our sleeping area; One double bed, no single. It looked like I was going to have to share the bed with Edward, and be in close quarters to him, while we slept.

_Great. _

I dipped my chin over to the bed. "It's a bit small, don't you think? I suppose one of us will have to sleep on the floor."

"Small?" He was confused. "Bella, it's a double bed. Fit for_ two_ people, me and you."

I pretended to misunderstand him. "But only_ one_ person can get into that bed. If you want, _I_ can take the carpet, I guess." _Anything to avoid being too close to him..._

He was silent for a moment, just staring at me. Then, understanding slowly flickered across his face, and his mouth pressed into a tight, thin line. "Ah, I get what you're hinting at. You don't want to be in the same bed as me?" Even I could hear the aching disappointment in his tone.

I couldn't believe the nerve he had. Did he honestly think I would so much as sleep near him, after what he did to me? After what he did to Charlie? He was delusional.

"No." I shook my head. I decided honesty was best, even if it did hurt his feelings-if he even_ had_ them at all. "I don't want to be sleeping anywhere near you!"

Rather instead of looking deeply insulted by my cutting remark, he disarmed me by laughing to himself.

"What are you laughing at?" I spat out, irritated beyond words.

"There's something else I haven't told you about myself." He had the heart to look a little nervous.

Oh, god. There's _more_? "What else is there?"

"Bella, I...I can't sleep. That is another impossibility for me."

It took a moment for that to properly sink in. "You can't?"

"No."

"Ever?" I couldn't hide the curiosity in my voice, and he had definitely caught it. He smiled at me, but then looked like, if he could, he would be blushing over it.

"No, not even a single bit."

I frowned deeply. "Well, that sounds pretty miserable, if I do actually say so..."

He blinked at me, surprised. "Miserable? Why would you think so?"

"I don't know." I shrugged, then brought my eyes over the whole of the massive room again. I couldn't wrap my head around it; It was all seriously rich. I didn't even know how he could afford such a room! "Those hours must drone on, though, until morning."

"Not if you find a way to occupy your mind. If you do, then you'll find it goes fairly quickly."

I glanced around at him again to find he was standing near the foot of the bed. He reached down and ran his palm slowly over the sheet, like he was indulging in the feel, or something. I felt the nerves race throughout my entire body. He was staring right at me, while he did it.

"What do you do to occupy your mind, though?" My voice came out so quiet, I was worried he hadn't heard me. But it turned out he had anyway, despite it all.

"Before I met you, I would either read or listen to music." He shrugged and, for some reason, looked incredibly embarrassed at the topic of conversation. I don't know why, but because of it, it made me uneasy.

"Before me?" I quirked an eyebrow.

He laughed again to himself- that laugh holding an anxious edge to it- then shifted his gaze elsewhere. "I used to fill my mind with...thoughts to distract myself." I wanted to ask what kind of thoughts, only he bet me to it, anyway. "I... used to picture what it would be like to actually be with you, sexually." He shoved his hands deeply into his trouser pockets, and sighed wistfully. I wasn't breathing. At all. "I would fantasize about how it would feel, the warmth of you spreading all over me, once I were inside of you officially. And, sometimes... I would think about the immense pleasure I would feel, and the gratification, in making you aroused, because of me."

_Oh my god._ I felt sick inside at his words. He fantasized obsessively about doing things to me, in the droning night hours, because he couldn't sleep? I didn't know whether I ought to have felt either creeped out, or flattered by that. It was a curious mixture of both, though.

Back then, when we first started dating, I did a bit, sure. I wondered what it would be like, how different it would feel... It had me intrigued due to my inexperience, and the fact that I was a virgin and hadn't ever done it before. But, not in a million years, would I constantly think about those things constantly, in the middle of the _night_ whenever I could not sleep, no less.

I watched him cautiously, as he moved over to a small table that was placed opposite the bed. There was a CD player on top. My pulse was racing a bit, as he turned back to the bed and unzipped the suitcase. It was very filled inside. Faintly, I caught that he had his several bags of blood in there with him. Oh, gross.

I was still shivering over it, repulsed, when he brought out a CD case and turned his back onto me, as he fiddled around with the player.

Elvis Presley's 'I Can't Help Falling In Love With You' started playing again gently around the lit room. _Of course_. God, what was _with_ him and Elvis' music. It was so, so strange.

He held out his hand to me, and I knew then what he wanted. He wanted to dance with me. But I didn't want it, at all. I was in no mood to play and dance, and have fun.

I shook my head, refusing to reach out and touch him.

He sighed loudly and grabbed my hand anyway. He tugged me closer, so much so that he almost sent me smacking right into his chest. Thankfully, I pulled back before it got that far. I was being very resistant, and he could tell. He started whispering underneath his breath, begging with me to dance. Each and everytime he tried to envelop me into him so that we could, I wriggled.

He made a funny noise, a noise that came right from the back of his throat, clattering on the bed of his tongue, and I suppose then, I decided to give up and just surrender. It was easier than even trying to fight him off. He was so adamant on it that we dance; He wouldn't take no for an answer.

He slipped his hand through mine, and held it out between us. He was staring down at my face, as he made us do a small turn.

"You are my little darling ragdoll, and dance we shall," he murmured softly, over the music. I felt it as he put his hand on my back, drawing me in closer. His nose was in my hair.

I made a rude noise of protest.

He leaned back to look at me, his eyes glowing with soft amusement. "Did you really just make a disgusting noise at me?"

"Oh, heaven forbid, _Mrs. Masen_ just did," I taunted, then laughed weakly. But then, I had to close my eyes tightly to keep the waterworks in. "You know, I hate you. I hate the way you make me feel, when I'm around you. You do all these terrible things, like hurting Mike at the party, and what you're doing now... holding me here. And yet," I blew out a breath, frustrated with myself, "You do things and say things, that make me truly unable to feel bad things about you."

Our forced movements stilled into thoughtful silence around the music. "That's the way it should be. It's that way for me, also."

"But I haven't done anything truly despicable to you?"

"No," he agreed, slowly. "You haven't. But all that time you ignored me for what happened, for how you were so ready and eager to banish me straight from your life, ought to have made me feel some sense of resentment for you, and... frankly, it did, for a moment there."

I arched my eyebrows up at him. "But isn't that why you have me, here, like this? Because you're _so_ unreasonable, you can't stand to let me go?"

"I suppose so." He frowned and glanced away from me for a moment, pensive. "I felt incredibly... frustrated that you were able to get under my skin, the way you did. I tried to block it out, only I couldn't. My mind wouldn't let me, to the point where it was ticking, and ticking, in my mind for hours, causing me even more suffering with your absence."

The corners of his lips arched with a faint, sad smile, and I found myself drawn to his mouth. Quickly, I brought my eyes down to his chest instead; To the loose collar of his dressy, white shirt. To the... smattering of chest-hair there. Then, yet again, I had to bring my eyes elsewhere. I didn't want them looking anywhere I didn't want them to be.

"At least, you seemed fuctional enough in the live world," he went on, an air of bitterness in his tone. "The first time, after what happened at the party, with the way you disregarded me so easily for that whole week... I couldn't understand how it was so simple for you, and yet, such torture for me. I would watch you walk by my car, head down, eyes forward, exactly like you were numb to it. Whereas, with me... I had to take the entire week off work, because I was so pathetic and miserable that I could not even focus on my job and my regular clients. I was paranoid that my boss was going to let me go over it." He shook his head, and let loose a trembling, stunned chuckle. "Hell, I even had to make up some bullshit story to tell my boss, that a very close person to me had died, and had to apply for a paid week off work to grieve. Never have I ever felt so vulnerable and hurt before. Everything about it is maddening."

My forehead crinkled at his heartfelt-sounding words. Pity flared deep within, only I couldn't say I wanted to feel any kind of sympathy towards him at all, in that moment.

"But I knew," he continued, in a much brighter, convinced tone of voice, "Oh, I _knew._ You felt it, too, if not as severe as I did. Everything for me, my love for you, my emotions concerning you, is intensified with what I am. But, inside of you, I _know_ you did. And, you feel it even now. You don't truly want me to let you go, either. All this indifference you're showing me... it is just for pretense, I _know_ it is."

"Well, you're wrong on that." I sounded so full of it, and he had definitely caught me out this time.

He laughed quietly, then raised our clasped hands. He brought the back of mine to his lips. He pressed a kiss into my knuckles, and, without really wanting to, I softened into him.

"Take my hand, take my whole life, too," he started murmuring quietly, in time to Elvis' crooning of the music, "For I can't help falling in love with you..."

I rolled my eyes, and made another inappropriate noise.

"Why do you have to go and taint this?" he whispered softly, feigning outrage.

"I'm really starting to hate this song," I muttered, through gritted teeth at him. "I'm starting to associate it with you. All of Elvis Presley's music, because you've been playing it repeatedly in your car ever since you took me away..."

"Or, is it truly because of something else instead?" he asked, like he knew something I didn't. I shot him a confused look. "Is it because we made honest, passionate love to this song, in my apartment that afternoon before I revealed my actual self to you?" He kissed the back of my hand again. Without my consent, I felt my cheeks flare and burn with heat. "It makes you relive that, doesn't it? It makes you feel incredibly flustered, I can tell, considering the rich flow of blood pulsating to your cheeks."

My throat tightened up at his words. Oh, god. Since when could he read me so well- about the blushing part, anyhow?

"No, it's not due to that at all," I replied, petulantly. "And, besides, I wouldn't have actually called it making love! That's _totally_ cheesy."

He raised an eyebrow. "What was it to you, then, if it were not us making love?"

"_Sex._ Just plain, old good sex, with no meaning involved."

Of course, I didn't really see it that way. There had definitely been feelings involved, bundles and bundles of it, because I loved him. But, back then at that point in time, everything was so carefree. I didn't feel paralysing fear for what he was, back then. I was completely unsuspecting throughout it.

But I was only simply cheapening it to get a rise out of him. And, judging by the look on his face, I had suceeded.

"You cannot possibly see it that way." He narrowed his eyes down at me. "Tell me, you don't." He was begging.

"Oh, but I do," I laughed, keeping my pitiful lie up. "I _totally_ do! I just wanted to get my first time over and done with, and you were so eager!"

I could see the flash of anger in his eyes. _It worked!_

"Fine," he hissed, letting go of my hands, and pushing them away. "See it that way!" At once, he stormed off into the clean, compact kitchen area, and threw open the door of the refridgerator.

He pulled himself out one of his pouches of blood, and searched around for a glass. He was muttering quickly underneath his breath, beyond angry in me and my words.

I felt a surge of satisfaction then, just as quickly, guilt for intentionally hurting him the way I had. I felt then, I wanted to dart over to him, and make it clear I was being spiteful, and that I never really meant it. Only, a second later, when I observed him tearing open the bag with his front teeth, and heard the sloshing sounds of the blood being poured into a glass, it made me stubbornly reconsider.

I didn't want to be anywhere near him, while he was drinking that stuff. Ugh. My stomach turned, as he slowly lifted the glass up to his lips. And then, sending me ill even more, his eyes held my own unapologetically, while he swallowed a few mouthfuls down.

He added in a few appreciative moans, and licked his lips for good measure. Perhaps he was doing it on purpose to get me back, because when I visibly shuddered over it, his mouth turned up and his eyes were glinting in amusement.

_Sick, sick bastard. Eck!_

He went one further, in asking me, "Would you like to try some, Mrs. Masen? It's very good. Soon, you'll be needing it."

I made a gagging sound, and stuck my tongue out at him from where I was standing. "Yeah, in your dreams I'll be needing it..."

"Oh, but I'm always dreaming of that. The possibilities of forever." It caught on that he was being completely serious. I shivered again.

"There will never be a forever between us, you sicko. I'll die before I reach that far!"

He gasped loudly and clutched a hand over his chest, feigning hurt. He thought I was playing with him; I wasn't. Not one bit.

He laughed again, but I was being completely sincere.

Oh my god! His teeth were stained. My stomach churned with full-blown nausea.

"Do I even want to know where you get all that stuff?"

"Probably not."

"Do you kill people for that?" I asked, very seriously. I just needed to know.

He finished off his glass in several more gulps, before turning and rinsing it out. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt, before coming closer towards me.

"Of course not. There are other ways."

"How then?" I was self-consciously aware, when he reached out and thumbed along the lining of my collarbone.

"Well," he started, eyeing me intently. "They do have a regular blood bank, where people donate, Bella. We get our blood from there."

"Why?" I pressed, thoroughly disgusted.

It was a little hard to focus exactly on what he was telling me, when his thumb started travelling lower... and lower. Daringly, it went under the neck of my shirt. The heat returned to my cheeks again. Damn him, and his unfair seductive ways.

"Because, not all of us want to be killers, Bella." His expression was completely grave. "This way, we can get our fill, and keep ourselves sustained without having to take away a human's life. Isn't it better that way? Wouldn't you prefer it, like that?"

"Of course," I breathed, kind of relieved that he put it that way. "That sounds much better, much..._ easier_ to live with..."

"Not that I'm completely without fault," he went on quickly, much too casually for my liking. "Like everyone, I'm not perfect. Far from it, actually. I've killed before."

My stomach dropped. _He's killed before!_ And, his words in the car... _First girl I love, first girl I've managed not to kill._

"Oh, that's so reassuring," I whispered, sardonically. "And, now, you're going to kill me next! Great, it's what I've always wanted!"

He stiffened at my words. Then, immediately looked away, anywhere but directly at me, as he started to undo the cuffs on each of his sleeves. "You honestly believe I'm going to kill you?" He was speaking through clenched teeth. "Even after all this time we've managed to be together?"

"Yes," I insisted, loudly. "I know it! You have me here, because you intend to kill me, sooner or later! Or, at least, do...something sick to me."

Still, he didn't meet my eyes. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. "I've come this far, haven't I? I've let you in, both intimately, and emotionally. I've become different... because of you. You've altered me in ways I've never dreamed of. Up until I met you, I would have scoffed at the notion that a human girl could even bring my soul back to life."

"You keep saying that." I crossed my arms over my chest defensively. "I don't believe _any_ of it!"

Suddenly, he held his hand out to me. Why, I had no idea. I stared down at it critically.

"What?"

"Come here," he whispered, full of need.

And still, I stood completely still, staring.

"No," I shook my head fiercely. He tilted his head to the side, contemplating me, his expression pained over my decline. "I'm _not_ letting you draw me in, just so that I can become an easy meal to you!"

"Killing you is the last thing on my mind, believe me. How many times do I have to tell you that? How would you like me to convince you on that?" He took in a trembling breath, hand still outstretched to me, and waiting. "I just want to feel your warmth on me again. I'm always craving it. It's like a drug to me."

"Go to hell!" I went to back away, only he took a lunge, and I felt his fingers close over my arm.

With a teeth-clenched groan, he fell down onto his knees, and tugged me closer. I stared down at him, not even daring to breath.

_What the hell does he want from me?_

"Don't you see, Bella?" His words were soft, and tender-spoken. "I give myself to you. I am yours, as you are mine, as a soulmate and, somewhere down the line, a husband. Your birthday is in several weeks. Don't you see?"

I was failing to understand one bit. Yes, my eighteenth birthday in a two weeks time. It was September now. But... so what?

My skin felt all gross and dirty. I felt like a shower in that moment- just so that I could get away from him, and all these confusing things that he was telling me. At least for a few minutes.

"Can I have a shower?" I had no idea why I felt it necessary to ask him that, like a child asking their parent for permission, but I just did.

Regaining my sense of dignity, I didn't wait for him to speak. I left him there, on the floor, hands by his sides defeatedly, while I padded my way over to the first door I found that led me into another room.

Luckily, for me, it _was_ the bathroom area.

It was all white tiles and cream-colored shower curtain drapes.

Hell, it even had a jet-spa in the corner of the room, decent sized. Pretty classy.

Already, a set of fluffy white cotton towels were left hanging on the rack. Not wanting to waste time, I pushed the shower curtain to one side, switched on the hot water, and started removing my clothes.

The instance I stepped into the water, it was like all the tension building in my neck, in my back, and around my shoulders, had been washed away and soothed. It felt so good. Hours, would be how long I would spend in here, if it prevented him for being anywhere near me.

Only... that blossoming idea was already shot to hell, when I heard it_. Damn him!_

I heard the door shuffle open behind me, then a delicate thud as it closed up again.

He was in here, I just knew it. I was aware of it, more than anything.

I heard the gentle unclasping of his belt through the running, dripping water, and then, I just _knew_. He was taking off his trousers. Hell, he was probably even intending to hop into the hot, steaming shower with me. I couldn't just stand there. I just _had_ to check, and see, for myself, whether he was planning to, or not.

I stuck my head out of the shower curtain.

My breath got stuck in my throat because, sure enough, he was removing his trousers. He was in the middle of stepping out of them, his back to me, and, oh god, he hadn't even been wearing underwear. Next, he unbuttoned his shirt, and tore it off his broad shoulders, letting the material fall into a bunch at his feet.

He was completely naked to me at this point. Never had I ever believed something could ever look so incredibly daunting, even though I had already seen and experienced it once before. There was just no time to prepare and recollect myself, in advance.

He turned and, luckily, I found myself again. Quickly, I ducked my head back into the shower, pulling it right under the spray of water, submerging my entire face. My long hair wrapped around my cheeks, like a wet tangle of dark ropes. The water tapping onto my face drowned out all noise, thankfully.

Only, not enough to hear him slip in behind me through the curtain...

I turned my head away from the spraying water, and looked behind me, strands of my hair dangling forward over my eyes and dripping. He was standing behind me, completely bare, and at ease. His eyes were focused on my bare buttocks, and that didn't do well for the racing nerves inside me at all.

"You... you want to warm up?" I whispered, very softly, and unevenly. I was too anxious to even speak a lot.

He didn't talk; He simply nodded silently, and brought his eyes up to mine, before moving closer.

I bit the inside of my lip and lowered my eyes to the tiles across from him, as I moved out of the way so that he could warm up underneath the jet of clear, pouring water. Immediately, my body broke out into goosepimples with the loss of warmth from the water and the airy bathroom air hitting my skin. I rubbed my hands along my arms to create some friction, shivering and exposed, while I turned to watch him while he moved to stand directly underneath the water.

He was, surprisingly, very quick underneath there. I wondered if he only did it, because he could somehow sense how cold I was, standing there behind him, because he brought his head under, and then, just as suddenly, pulled back from the stream to look at me again.

His hair was dark, completely drenched, standing flat to his scalp. Droplets of water trickled down the bridge of his nose, and rolled underneath his chin, before falling to the tiles like teardrops. Even soaked with water, he still looked like the best-looking thing I had ever seen in my entire life, and I hated that fact about him.

I really oughtn't to have felt that way at all. But it was a little hard. He was irresistable to me, in every way.

He brought his hands up to rub them over his wet face. "Here, you can go back under now. I didn't come in here for that."

"Thanks," I breathed, bringing my eyes downwards to my feet, as I carefully brushed past him.

He wasn't making it any easier on me, though. Soon as I stepped past him, I felt one of his hands as he lifted it up to touch my wet shoulderblade, fingertips eagerly caressing. His touch was amazingly cold in contrast to the warm water that covered me again, as I retreated most of my body back under it to heat myself up again. It was unbelievable.

He bent down and kissed me, tauntingly slow, around my shoulder. He was murmuring words into my skin. Words I couldn't make out, but I presumed they were meant to be tender, and encouraging, by the tone of his voice. His long- fingers brushed over my stomach, as he kept up with his urgent kissing along my back, and I stiffened, caught off-guard, and unsure of whether I ought to let him proceed with what he was doing, or not.

My breathing was dangerously fast, and loud, failing me. I wished he didn't have this affect on me, even after all this time, but... still, he_ did_. It was totally unfair.

Once he stopped kissing around my back, he was breathing down the side of my neck. Stunning me and causing me to accidently whimper, he turned his face into the crook of my neck, nuzzled his nose into the skin, and breathed all of me in, loudly. I wondered what I smelt like to him. Really, he must have enjoyed whatever smell I gave off, because he would smell me constantly before.

I jolted and yelped a bit, when something suddenly prickled and spiked into my skin. In a panic, I got to thinking it was Edward's teeth, but then a moment later, I saw he had a small pointy needle in between his fingers. He must have spiked me with it._ And, what the hell for?_

"Ouch, Edward!" I moaned, moving away. Lifting a hand, I went to massage my neck with my fingers. Edward caught it, and brought it down slowly to my side instead.

"Just wait," he breathed, desperately.

I saw, out of the corner of my eye, him lowering his head towards my neck again. His mouth closed over the part that felt particularly throbbing to me, and, it occured to me dauntingly then, that he was sucking off the blood that had been drawn out with the pin-prick. Surprisingly, it was both pleasurable and painful, all at once.

"I... I thought you said, you weren't going to kill me," I panted out, as I felt him swirl his tongue in a small, circular motion over the spot on my neck he had pricked. I trembled all over, and gasped. With a low moan, he removed his mouth from my skin.

"Bella, I was merely testing the wine," he groaned, "That's it."

_Oh, like there's a difference..._


	21. Fate

**I own nothing to do with Twilight, never will. Just love the characters and are kind of... making them twisted a bit.**

**Hey guys! Thank you all so much for your alerts, and reviews. Thank you for reading. Hope you won't mind all the updates- I owe it to you all anyhow. Hope you'll enjoy this one! **

**I apologize for this chapter, also. Bella is extremely frustrated over everything; What Edward did, with Charlie, and she says some pretty hurtful things which I'm sure we all do when mad. And, as for Edward, well, he's crazily infatuated with Bella, as always, and frustrated with her as well. Again, I apologize. This is as "dramatic" as it'll most likely get. **

**I hate most of the chapters I write, but I don't think that'll ever change lol. Hope you'll bear with me!**

**Love you all, you all are the reason why I'm keeping up with updating! I truly appreciate everything**** xxx**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 21<strong>_

It all happened so fast- one minute, he was paying gloriously excruciating attention to my neck, and then, in the next, his long-fingers were curling through my damp ropey hair, and he was pushing it gently out of the way behind my shoulder and turning slightly, so that he could look me directly in the eyes.

Anxiously, I held his probing, intense gaze and, I knew automatically then, of what he wanted; He wanted to kiss me and, unconsciously, when my eyes were drawn to that slightly parted, wet mouth of his, I almost wanted him to, as well. I felt I wanted him to kiss me, then, with such aching need.

That beautiful mouth of his. Those... _teeth_.

He was breathing a lot more harshly through his mouth than I would have prefered to be aware of.

But _no_. I _couldn'_t. I needed to get away from him.

He brought his hand up, fingers tracing over my water-soaked chin. Then, slowly and gently, he dragged his thumb over my bottom lip, enough to deliberately part them wider. With a determined sense of purpose, he took in a long and loud breath through his nostrils, preparing himself, and leaned down to go in for the kill.

My head was reeling with his actions.

No. _No!_ I couldn't let it be this way. It couldn't be this way. I would be a traitor, both to myself, and to Charlie, in letting him kiss me. I would only be spurring on whatever it is he wanted from me right now, in keeping me here with him. It wasn't right. I wasn't going to let it happen- not again. Once, was enough, in letting him affectionately kiss my shoulder, and do whatever thing he did with my blood. Really. I _think_.

I placed my hand gently on his arm- about the only thing I was capable of doing. He paused a fraction, sensing my resistance, his wet face inches from mine, his mouth curled into a frown.

"Here, you can have the water all to yourself now," I breathed, whirling out of the way, intentionally keeping my voice light.

"Bella," he panted out behind me, his quiet tone laced with sheer confusion, as I treaded carefully away from him. I didn't want to slip. "What are you doing? Why are you avoiding me, like this? I-I just wanted to-?" His voice faltered into frustrated silence.

I knew I had hurt his feelings, only currently, I couldn't bring myself to care. I had more pressing concerns to be worried about, such as keeping myself as far away from unreasonable temptation as possible.

I stepped out of the shower, my bare feet slapping against the tiles with my quick and needy exit in escaping him, before I did something I seriously regretted.

I knew that wasn't truly the reason of why he came into the shower with me. He was probably hoping for... _more_. Stuff I didn't feel right in giving him. Maybe, if the situation had been different, less complicated, and... I was here in the hotel out of my own free will with him, I mightn't have hesitated. But it wasn't that way, and I couldn't do it. I couldn't share that moment with him.

Still, I gave myself a mental clap on the back regardless for effectively taking hold of the situation by pulling myself away from it.

I snatched a white towel off the railing and draped it across my trembling shoulders. I couldn't seem to stop shaking, and I hadn't the slightest clue why. I knew Edward would never intentionally hurt me- at least, I hoped so. So, why was I feeling this way, so tense and cold, and on-edge? My teeth were chattering together loudly. My hands were unsteady and weak, when I covered myself up, and tried to wrap the towel even tighter around my naked self.

I thought quietly and hard, for several long moments, staring back absentmindedly at my blurry reflection in the tall mirror, fogged and misted up by the heat of the shower that was still running while Edward stood in there, washing himself.

I still didn't quite understand why he had me here, exactly. He had mentioned, outside before, about my eighteenth birthday coming up in several weeks. I still couldn't quite understand why he would bother with it all. Slowly, my mind danced with various explanations into his words of before.

Eighteen was the legal age to get married by law. Was that perhaps the reason into why Edward was holding me here? I shook my head lightly to clear that haunting trail of thought. It just didn't seem something Edward would intend to do. Then again, I had always believed I knew Edward, the _real_ Edward. But then... I found out about _everything_ else. About what he _truly_ was. Even throughout those seven months of dating... I never felt so closer to anyone in my entire life, yet _now_...

I've never been more closer to someone- never had such a close, intimate relationship with someone, as I had with him throughout the past few months of dating- and, realistically, it turned out, I didn't even know him _at all_.

The spraying jet of water shut off, the shower curtain was pushed open to the side, and, I felt my heart leap in my throat, once he stepped out. I forced myself not to pay any attention to him. But, like before in the shower... it was increasingly hard not to. He pulled one of the towels off the rack for himself, and hung it loosely around his hips to conceal his private parts. Instant relief washed over. _Thank god!_

Without so much as a look at me, he strolled on past me and pushed through the sliding door out of the bathroom. I was alone now. That ought to have made me content inside, only funnily enough, it didn't. It was the way he walked, that got to me; Head down, eyes forward, the muscles in his jaw twitching, his back and shoulders tense. He was grumpy with me over what happened in shower, with me not letting him kiss me. I _know_ he was!

And, like before when I deliberately made him upset over my lying, that same burning flare of guilt filled within deeply to the point where I wanted to disregard every ounce of logically planned reactions and just head on out there, throw my arms around his neck, and kiss him senseless into next morning.

I gave my foggy reflection an austere look. _Don't you dare go feeling sorry for him,_ I told her sternly. _He's the one at fault here, not you. He doesn't like the fact that you're being responsible and not giving him the satisfaction of being affectionate towards him, then that's his problem! Don't feel bad over it, Bella. It's his problem- not yours. Don't let him guilt-trip you, you-_

_Whoops. _I almost laughed hysterically to myself over my silent pep-talk, when he entered back into the bathroom, this time wearing a clean thin white V-necked shirt and loose grey trackpants. Whoa, he was even still barefoot. Very casual for him. How... weird. I wasn't used to him wearing something so sloppy, and comfortable. All the times he had spent with me, it was either a nice business suit that complimented his marvellously tall, lanky build, or a clean and crisp buttoned-up white dress shirt, with grey slacks and polished, shiny shoes.

I turned and peeked over at him curiously. He had a paper shopping bag dangling off his index finger.

"What's in that?" I asked warily, motioning to it with my finger.

He stared at me in silence for a moment, something there in his look that I couldn't fathom, then bent down and plunged a hand into the bag.

"Here, I brought this for you." He tossed something, underhand, a soft dark material, over at me. Surprisingly for me, I caught it with ease before it hit the white tiles. "I figured you might need something to sleep in. I didn't have time to collect your pajamas when I was over at your house, during the altercation with Charlie and James..."

I held it up by the thin lacy, shoulder straps and inspected it closely.

My eyes popped out. It wasn't any type of shirt to wear to bed, however, but fancy black silk lingerie; A sleeveless, satin black camisole, with sheer lace design around the waistband and cleavage area. Holy hell.

Idly, I pictured Edward walking into a lingerie store for women, buying this for me. I imagined the look on the woman behind the counter's face, when he went up to her to purchase it, so full of ease in a crowded store full of thirty-something-year-old-women. I pictured them thinking him so weird for buying women's lingerie. Frankly, it didn't break me out of my grumpy mindset over it at all.

I raised my eyebrows and whistled loudly. "Huh. And, I thought you said you didn't like revealing clothes on a woman, namely _me_?" I teased, slightly miffed.

He chuckled, only I wasn't doing it to humour him. "Well, I've had a slight change of heart. You're becoming the exception."

I hurled it at him. Effortlessly, he caught it between his fingers. "Then _you_ wear it," I muttered, tersely.

Then exploded into laughter at the indulgant train of thought that took me. Edward, in all his tall masculinity, wearing women's lingerie that strained tight against his broad shoulders and flaunted off his delightful chest hair. Oh, god. I shared a small smile to myself over it. How priceless.

"Bella, don't be melodramatic," he scolded, tearing me out of my silly thoughts, coming closer. He held it out to me, his expression stark. "I've seen all of you, already. You have the most flawless skin I've ever seen in centuries and, frankly, I want to see it again, and again..."

"No. I'm not wearing it!" My head started burning with irritation. _Who does he think he is, telling me what to wear? "_I'm not wearing that! _No way_!"

"Bella, you're being difficult." He stared at me in silence for a long moment, visibly searing with frustration over my behaviour. I didn't care whether I was being argumentative, or childish, even. He had no right to tell me what to wear. Sure, he might be holding me hostage and has, at least, a _small_ amount of control over me right now. But no way would I be letting him dictate what I wear to bed. "Is this about what happened in the shower?"

"What?" Well, that threw me off majorly.

He sighed heavily, then looked away from me quickly. "I didn't mean to frighten you off in the shower when I tasted your blood, I just... I felt this raging compulsion to. I didn't mean to hurt you." He looked guilty, his expression downtrodden. And, he ought to have felt that way over it.

"Well, apology or not, it really didn't help your case at all!"

"Look, if... if it's any consolation to you," he began, his expression earnest, "I won't ever let it happen again. And, just so you know... your taste is the most mouth-watering I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing."

Suddenly, I started to panic. "The most _mouth-watering_?" I rolled my eyes at him, incredulous. "Really, that is _another_ thing you go and say that doesn't help prove your case of not wanting to kill me!"

He exploded into laughter, shakily. There was something there; a wicked glint to his eyes that unsettled me deeply. I laced my fingers together, and peered down at them, stressed. "Trust me, Bella. It's not your blood I hunger for."

"What... what are you hungering for, then?"

"It's not your blood, for one thing. It's not the taste, or the scent." His voice was low, and raspy. I swallowed dryly at the peculiar tone that had taken over his tone. "It's not your beautiful body, either, though that's part of it. It's _you_."

I blinked up at him, yet again at a loss in understanding. "What are you talking about, Edward?"

Boy, did he like to keep me guessing. I certainly didn't know him at all. Who was this person? Not the kind-hearted, protective and loving one I knew and spent my time with all those months back. What happened to that familiar Edward I appreciated, and found I could easily love? Because, this person... him, and the way he was being now... he was not him. Then again, maybe that person never fully existed in the first place? Maybe he was playing me all along?

"Look, Edward," I sighed deeply, in resignation. "I'm going to go in the other room, and sleep now. After these past few hectic days and hours, I think I deserve that little piece of time to myself to recoup. I can't even think properly right now. Nothing you're saying, is even registering, in here." I tapped a forefinger to my left temple. "Right now, all you're telling me, everything, is all cryptic messages and confusion. So, please, just leave me alone in peace for a few hours. You owe it to me! Goodnight."

He stared after me, helpless and agitated, hands dangling in front of him, fisting the material of the black lace camisole, as I carefully stepped past him.

I trudged my way straight over to the bed and, without a single coherent thought, plopped myself down headfirst onto the mattress. I couldn't even be bothered bringing the sheet down and covering it over myself to keep myself warm. I couldn't even bring myself to care that my hair was still drenched, that it was likely to soak into the sheets, or that I was scantily covered in the towel that was sticking into my wet skin like glue.

Sleep. It was all I wanted for right now. It was all I cared for.

And, within hardly a minute, as my eyes closed over, it welcomed me in with it's grasp, pulling me deeply into exhausted darkness. Finally, I was away from everything. I was away from him. I had escaped into a whole new world, of darkness, and dreaming. Even for a few hours.

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><p>Someone was murmuring deeply, and quietly, into my skin; Words and phrases my disordered sleep-riddled brain could not comprehend.<p>

Still, I wasn't so drunk with sleep and long gone, that I could not feel the impact that something, the solidity of a hard and heavy human body, was draped over the lower half of my body, skin flat against skin.

Cold, hard rigid flesh sticking to my thighs. Fingertips that gently brushed over my cheek that was not resting flat against the spongy mattress underneath me, moving various threads of my still-damp long hair from my face, tucking it behind my earlobe.

Someone's thinly-sock-clad feet resting in between mine, ankles rubbing against ankles. Hairy shins prickling against my bare, smooth ones. Long fingers closing carefully over my chin, and gently, gently... moving my head over, and up.

I started to stir, groggily, turning my body spine-flat to the soft mattress. I wanted to open my eyes to check and see what was going on for real, only they wouldn't let me. They wanted to stay shut. They wanted me to sink back under into the depths of a dream-like world, where everything was so carefree and I wasn't stuck here... stuck in a hotel room, confined, to where he will be, always.

All the muscles in my body slowly clenched with the dawning realization of what was happening, of just who was here with me, hovering over me on the bed, touching my face with his fingers and doing other various things my mind couldn't process yet, plunging me deeper into the mattress due to their weight.

Something pressed into my mouth; A pair of lips softening deeply into mine, lingeringly, and my adrenaline started racing, and I felt cold all over.

I was slowly being brought back down into self-conscious awareness, when all the fogginess in my brain gradually started to clear up, and I heard him.

He was talking to me. Pleading with me. Begging to me.

"Bella, darling," he was murmuring desperately, into my lips. "Wake up, please. Stay awake with me for the night."

My eyes popped open of their own accord and, there he was. His white face was floating over my eyes in the darkness, and he smiled, so so widely, so happily. My eyelids flickered, struggling. They felt so heavy, so thick with sleep.

"Bella." He brought his hands together, and was clapping, right near my left ear. He was trying to keep me from falling back to sleep. He was hoping a loud enough noise would rouse me into a permanant state of consciousness. It wasn't working at all. "Bella, no, no. Don't go back to sleep! Stay awake with me, please!"

"Tired," I mumbled, letting my eyelids shut and envelop me into glorious darkness again. "Let me...sleep."

"No!" More clapping in my other ear this time. Oh, god. What was with him? I sighed heavily through my nostrils. I felt my whole face pucker up in irritation. "Don't fall back to sleep. Stay with me!"

"But... I am..." I slurred, sleepily. "You have me here... where I can't..." I huffed out a low, drained sob.

"Please." His breath was soft over my face, along with his jagged pleading for my attention. "I want you to stay up all night with me. It's all I ask. Bella, baby, please..."

My head throbbed in deep annoyance.

"I want to sleep!" I shouted, forgetting myself and just who it was I was talking to. "Can't you see that? _Unlike_ some people...I require sleep!"

He was doing it before it even sunk into my brain. I felt him reach down, until his fingers started massaging around the inside of my left thigh, his fingers circling and rubbing various points of my flesh.

"Fine, then," he whispered harshly, his shallow breaths fanning over my nose. "You go back to sleep then, and leave me." I caught the indignant tone in his voice. He was sulking!

"Edward," I puffed out, simmering. "I... I can't help that I need to sleep. Can you respect that, please?"

"But, Bella, I don't want you to sleep. That's my point." He was murmuring in my hair now. Oh, god. What was he doing? What did he want from me? "Just for this one night, I would like you to stay awake with me, or at least make the attempt, so that we can talk and spend some time together."

My brows furrowed. "What? We are together! You have me here!"

Though my hands felt like lead, I managed. I slid them onto his chest, and tried to push him, up, up and away. My head was whirling, and I made my own growl of deep-seated irritation, when he took hold of my hands, pulled them up and over my head, and held them there. I started panting heavily, my eyes squinted tight in helpless unwant.

Tightening his hold of my hands, he slid one of his out, clasped over the pair of them with the other, and started roaming. He trailed his fingers down my forehead, down along the bridge of my nose, to my parted lips. Catching him off-guard, and with such angry exhaustion, I opened my mouth, wide as it would possibly go, and managed to catch one of his fingers. I bit down, hard, as possible.

Whatever I was anticipating to come next from it, some shout of agony or pain, did not come. Rather instead, he burst out laughing, his chuckles vibrating through his chest to mine.

I felt him lean down into me. His mouth was right on my ear. "Now, you really shouldn't have done that," he whispered darkly. "That only just reinforced what I've dreamed about this whole time. You, and me." I spat his finger out from between my teeth, and gagged. "You and me, as one, and the same."

"Please, Edward," I muttered, desperately. "Stop. I need to sleep. I can't think properly!"

"Oh, don't. Worry." He was speaking in between kisses all over my forehead. I winced, and grunted. "We still have two weeks to wait, until the grand finale."

"Stop!" His hand loosened it's hold on my hands the slightest fraction at the word and, without hesitation, I managed to yank one free. I brought it up to the back of his head, knotting my fingers into the small short strands of hair there, and I yanked and pulled hard with all my might.

Surprisingly, he hissed.

"Bella, why are you doing that, baby?" His voice was hurt, and accusatory. I didn't care. I yanked, and twisted again. "You're trying to hurt me by doing that, aren't you? You wish that if I were able to feel it, it would deter me, don't you?" He was speaking through his teeth, getting louder and louder by the second. "As if that could stop me from trying to show you that I love you. I'm trying to make love to you here, Bella! I'm trying to-"

My hand connected to the side of his face, palm flat open to the side of his cheek, and I grunted.

"I don't want you to make love to me!" I was screaming, unable to help myself. "I want to go to sleep! I want you to leave me the hell alone, Edward! I wish I could sleep for days, and days, because, you know... I'm sure when I _do_, I'll forget about all of this! About you keeping me here against my will, and about how crazy you are! I don't know you anymore! I... I don't even think I love you anymore, because of this... this person you've turned into! Your friends, they hurt Charlie!"

It seemed a good thing to do at the time. But once I got started with him, I found it near to impossible to shut up. Once I managed though, everything fell unnervingly quiet. Even him, aside from his loud, and uncontrolled breathing.

I felt the tears roll down my cheeks, and I felt myself cave in completely. I knew I had hurt him just then, but I was the only way I could reach out to him. This was all I had left.

And, it seemed, my words were exactly his undoing...

"Bella..." He breathed hoarsely, after the dreadful silence that lapsed in between us. His voice was trembling.

"Just let me sleep, all right?" I gasped, between sobs. "I need to sleep. I need you to stay away from me so I can sleep, all right? Please."

He sighed heavily at my words, and the instance I felt his hand on the side of my cheek, I slapped it away from me with a sigh.

"Don't touch me! I don't want it from you anymore!"

"Look, I... I never intended to hurt you, or make you feel this way. If you need to know why I'm being like this, then I'll have no trouble in making it clear on you." He swallowed loudly, and sighed unevenly again. "I just... I don't want you slipping through my fingers. I know I didn't go in the right away about any of this, but...my biggest fear, I've learned now, is losing you. Losing you, for what I truly am. Losing you... for another person." He made a strange despairing noise from in the back of his throat. "And, I don't want that. I don't want any of that, even. I've learned that I can't cope without you, I can't function properly, when I'm not near you, and when we are separated..."

I was numb, from both shock and exhaustion.

"Bella, I can't stand being away from you anymore. And, when your father shut me out that night... I suppose those instincts set in where I felt this raging compulsion to extract anyone that tries to pull you apart from me." He reached out to comfort me and, this time, it was a lot harder to push him away. His hand came down onto my shoulder, and he squeezed. "You are my life, you are everything to me. And, losing you... would be like losing a vital piece in me that holds me all together. If I lose you, I know what will become of me. I'll either die by executing myself, or I'll go ballistic and probably go into a feeding frenzy and slaughter everyone that comes within a two meter distance. I'm merely speaking hypothetically, of course, but who knows?"

I blinked up at him through the darkness, my pulse racing madly. Unhealthy. Everything was so... unhealthy. More reason for me to get away from him. His dependance on our relationship... and on _me_, was not... right.

"Don't you see this is why you can never be separated from me, baby?" I felt his nose in my hair again, and he inhaled deeply. "Wouldn't you like to be my wife? Wouldn't you like to marry me?"

_Whoa, now._ My head was reeling from the sudden change in topic.

"What?" I pulled away from him. "Marry you? Are you serious?" I laughed derisively, I couldn't help it.

"Don't laugh, please." His tone was playful, only I didn't see it that way at all. All that he was telling me... was, for lack of a better word, crazy as nuts. "Seriously. Don't you see the coincidence in this? I take you away from your home, and bring you along with me, and then...your eighteenth birthday so happens to be approaching in a two weeks time. This is fate, don't you see, love?" He laughed to himself, astonished over his mindless ramblings that made no sense to me at all. "This is meant to be. We're meant to be. Like in the song we made love to; 'Like a river flows, surely to the sea, some things in life, darling... they're meant to be.' That's _us_, Bella. What more reason do we need, for you to become my wife?"

Oh my god. I wasn't even breathing.

Edward had truly lost it, and that had me sobbing even harder to the point where I could not stop.

"Oh, tears of happiness. Don't you see? This is forever, for us."


	22. His Only Crime: Love

**First, I own nothing to do with Twilight, and never will.**

**I send a big apology out to you guys. I know it inexcusable to leave you all waiting, and I'm so sorry. I've just started a new job, I've had my sisters wedding as bridesmaid, and to top it all off, I couldn't assess my account due to my password. I'm so sorry, I want to thank you all so much for your support, and I love you all to the heavens and feel so humbled by your interest in the story. **

**I swear to not leave you waiting so long again, as finally I've resolved the issue with my account, life has settled down, and I can start updating more frequently again! I'm so sorry, and I hope you will enjoy this one.**

**Do you think Bella should try to forgive Edward over everything? Or has he royally taken it too far? Guess that's what happens when vampires are infatuated with someone. No excusing behaviour in any way, whatever happens I don't condone it!**

** Love you guys, would be interested in hearing your thoughts. :-) xx Hopefully see you all next update (in a weeks time, I sincerely promise!) **

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Twenty-two<strong>_

Edward had been terribly quiet, distracted, and pensive, the next morning. Not that I was complaining.

I got my complimentary breakfast- crispy, golden pancakes with a side of maple syrup and runny eggs- but I could hardly keep it up. I tried to eat it in the bed, because I found I didn't want to move. I didn't seem to have the strength. Halfway through watching me attempting to eat blankly, Edward got up and went outside for a cigarette. When he came back in, he refused to so much as look at me. He went into the bathroom, I heard the faucet running into the basin, and then he came out wearing a clean, button-up black shirt. His face was dripping wet with water, and I assumed then, he had splashed himself with water. He then got himself a bag of blood to drink.

That made trying to eat something all the more worse, because I just knew there was something wrong.

I couldn't eat, and it wasn't just because Edward was drinking thick, sloshing blood in a tall glass right in front of my eyes. In a sense, I guessed I could tell what was up with him. It was what happened last night, that did it. Him trying to keep me awake, so that we could "make love" like two honeymooners on vacation. And me, saying all these things in the heat of the moment, mainly because I was frustrated and tired, and because I just wanted him to let me sleep.

Some of the things, I had truly meant. Others, not quite so much. I just lacked so much as a verbal filter, when I was half-asleep, but clearly, he couldn't understand that. I could tell he was taking it all to heart.

It was in the ways he refused to look at me. In the way he gulped down some blood, and grimaced to himself, blinking heavily, like he was on the verge of some emotional breakdown that was rotting away at him inside, because he couldn't verbalize it or even show it properly. Maybe it was just another one of those vampire things? I couldn't be sure, but it was there. And it made me feel enormously guilty, and wretched inside.

I wanted to apologize over hurting him, but at the same time, I felt an apology to him was undeserved. After all, he was the one holding me here like this. He was the one that had me here. Heaven forbid I should get angry with him over that, and say some terrible things, when he rightly deserved half of them.

After he finished his blood, he sat on the end of the bed, disturbingly quiet.

I went into the bathroom, scrubbed at my skin, and when I came back out, he was still sitting there in the exact same position before, almost like a heavy stone sinking down into that mattress.

With some effort, I sat on the bed next to him. Even then, he hardly moved a bit. Just stared at the wall, emotionless, blinking. It was disturbing and tragic. Several drops of water trickled down his forehead.

"I want you to help me out here," I started hesitantly.

That seemed to get some reaction out of him. He turned to look at me carefully.

"Help you with what?" he asked, tonelessly.

I tried to pretend the situation was in reverse, and that it wasn't happening to me. It helped a whole lot better to cope to see it in that light, where I could step back out of frame and neutrally assess how to get out of it with a clear head. "I have a friend, and she's scared. She has this man, who turned out be a vampire. And he's so in love with her, that he has kidnapped her."

A stiff, strained smile curled his lips. "What a coincidence."

"It is, isn't it?" I inhaled in a deep breath. It was all I could do to keep the fear I felt from spilling out. "Well, she is feeling a little overwhelmed by the whole thing to the point where she doesn't know what she wants. She feels she loves him still, but she's also scared of what he is. Well, she is unsure what he wants with her, and how to help. What do you advise to make it all stop so that she can be released and head home to see her father, who she misses dearly?"

"He just wants her as his wife," he murmured quietly. "He doesn't want to hurt her because of what he is. Asking her to be his wife, is that _so much_ to ask?"

"Well, _maybe_ she doesn't want that, especially not at eighteen. What can she do, in order to be released safely? What can she _do_... to make it easier on him to let her go?"

He sat for a long moment, still as a statue, in a solemnly contemplative mood.

"She told him she wanted to be with him forever," he said helplessly, after a long moment. His voice grabbed at my heart, twisted me inside. "Perhaps he misinterpreted that, but she still said it regardless." His words turned low and defensive. "She still said it, and she sounded as if she had meant it." He placed his hands on his knees, clenching them tightly together. He still refused to look at me, but I could see so much by the expression on his face, that it was tearing him apart internally.

I reverted back on track with my game. "Yes, but she wants to be home the most. She doesn't like being held here out of her will. Isn't there something else she can do to make him release her easily, so she can be with her father again?" I asked, hopefully. "Anything at all?"

He didn't answer, and maybe he couldn't. He merely sat there, staring vacantly at the wall, his body rigid.

"All right. Let's not play this game anymore and beat around the bush here. The girl in question, is me. I would like to be set free, so what can I do for you in order to be free?"

"You can be with me forever, like you initially said." His voice was chillingly remote, and distant. I had to bite down on my tongue to stop whatever emotions bubbled wildly to the surface over his words. Some, helpless frustration. Others, mind-numbing anger. I just wanted to know what I could possibly do to make this easier on him to let me go.

Despairingly, I reached over and grabbed the hand on his knee that was closest to me. I gripped it tightly as I could muster.

"Please," I breathed weakly. I tried to keep the tears at bay. "I know I'm hurting you, and I hate that. I truly do! But all of this, its honestly scaring me, and I just want to be home." I pulled his hand up, uncurled his stiff fingers, and slipped it on my stomach, holding it there. His eyes closed, and a pained moan tore through the very back of his throat. "Will this help?" I asked, hoping desperately that it would. I shifted a bit closer to him on the bed, rested my shoulder against his hard, rigid one. "Would this help at all, if I let you have me, for one last time? Will that make you take me back home, then? If we have one _last_, special time together?"

He opened his eyes slowly. "One last, special time together?" he repeated, in a calm and emotionless tone. His face was quite still, blank, but a tendon in his neck was twitching. Maybe he was just nervous?

"Yes," I whispered, and I could feel my breathing begin to pick up when I purposefully guided his hand up to my chest, I could feel my heart beating, with all the panicky feelings I was trying to hard to suppress. "Will this help at all? Will it make it easier on you?"

"You _know_ what I want."

"This?" I yanked his hand down and placed it towards the center of my thighs. I squeezed them together, and glided his hand further. "Is this the answer?"

He didn't answer. He simply sighed heavily through his mouth. He still refused to so much as look at me.

"Well?"

"I want this, yes. Oh, I want it." His soft voice broke in wistful urgency. "But I want other things, also. You already know what I want."

"But I can't give you that! I can only give you this, for one last time. But that's all, all right?"

"Then I don't want it," he hissed stiffly. And he removed his hand away and set it on his knee again.

"Oh, God. Please. Just, yes or no? If I go to bed with you one last, special time, will it make any difference at all?"

"Not while we remain like this."

"Like what?" I asked, aching with confusion. "What are we like? Tell me!" I pleaded desperately.

"It will be fake. Untrue, because you will be leaving me."

I felt my hands contract into fists, and I felt on the dangerous point of breaking down. I took in a deep breath, my eyes fixed on his chin. I could feel my eyes begin to water. "And why would it be fake?" Something flickered across his face, and it occurred to me then. "Right. You think I would be faking it? You think I would only be doing it just so that you'll let me go? Is _that_ it?"

"_Yes_," he stated miserably. "You didn't want it in the shower." I peered down at his hands. He turned them around, and stared down at his long fingers. They were trembling. "I appal you, due to what I am. I can see that now."

"It isn't due to what you are that makes me feel scared in some way," I said, sounding as earnest as I possibly could. "It's what you're capable of. It's due to what I don't understand about you, with what you are. And also, what you've already... done."

That confused him a bit. He blinked compulsively down at his hands. Red was seeping through his pupils. "And what have I done exactly?"

I almost laughed bitterly, because he had done so much. Couldn't he see that himself? "For one thing, you're keeping me here out of my own will. That isn't usually something a girl likes." He turned to look at me; which felt about the first time he was able to. He was squinting at my neck, and disconcertingly, I wondered if the only reason he was doing it, was because he could somehow see throbbing pulses and arteries. "Not to mention, your group of friend's hurt my father."

"They're not my friends," he said quickly, as if that would make any difference.

"But they were with you," I pointed out strongly. "They came with you. That makes you part of it in hurting my dad, because you did it to get me."

"It was the only solution I had. My hands were forced into it. You refused to see me."

"Yes," I agreed sadly, after a while. "And, yes. I know I had gone about it in the wrong way. This probably all could have been... prevented if I hadn't ran. I'm sorry I hurt you in doing that. But I wasn't thinking clearly and, sometimes, when people are afraid, they do things without thinking properly. But I didn't mean for it to come across as if I was appalled with you for some reason, over _what_ you are."

"And don't you see that I was afraid, also?" He arched his dark eyebrows dubiously. "I was afraid, much in the similar way, as you were. I was afraid I was going to lose you, and you shut me out so completely. I had to do what I had to do to preserve what we once had, and while I admit I'm not proud of that, it was for my sanity." He said it so matter-of-factly, so business-like, like he was declaring a mere business proposal to someone that it angered me. This wasn't anything you could casually talk about. This was something serious. This was about intimidating another person, and causing one of their family members harm. How could he be so cold and impersonal over it? "You probably can't possibly comprehend it unless you were born into what I am, but this is the way it is for us. When we... love, we love intensely. _Everything_ is amplified due to what we are." By _us_, he meant his vampire kind, and he made that perfectly clear. "It is in our natural instinct, to preserve what we have with our significant mate, when the chips are down and there is a threat in the way. These extremely rare feelings you've brought out of me, are permanent for you. They won't ever wane with time or separation, they will merely heighten by the year. They will always be... _there_. A lasting sensation existing inside of me."

"Right," I whispered, trying to sound as casual as I possibly could, yet I failed. I shivered, yet felt simultaneously affected and moved by that.

Really, who wouldn't, when someone was declaring something like that, so openly? I suppose, to a girl who might have dreamed about finding everlasting love, it would have appealed to her most. Only, not for me. I hadn't put much stock into that; He was my first-ever relationship with someone of the opposite sex. I had only expected it to last however long it would, and then we would inevitably have a falling out, and part ways as amiably as possible. Because, doesn't that usually happen with all teenage relationships? Isn't that the way it was supposed to be? A learning curve?

"Can't you understand how it must feel like for me?" He asked, his voice turning sluggish and drained. "This is how it will always remain. There will be no other, I won't be able to see any other but you, Bella. _No one_ else exists. _No one_ else matters, or reaches into the forefront of my mind, as you do. This is the way it is. You will _always _be a permanent fixture to me. The cards of fate were already dealt the instance I saw you across the road in the rain that day. Over a hundred years of trying to appear normal in attempting to date..." A wistful smile curled the corners of his lips."Over a hundred years of waiting for the moment it would finally happen. And finally, it happened, and it can never cease, unless I kill myself by suicide. Only _then_, will it stop."

That terrorized me way more than I believed possible. A pain so crippling, over the possibility of him ever doing something to himself, came on so strong. Without any ounce of control on it, and with such despair, I placed a hand on the side of his cool cheek. I left it there for a long moment, aiming to console him in some sense.

"That is why I react the way I do, sometimes impulsively," he went on, after a moment of still silence, his eyes flitting closed. He leaned his face into my hand, almost as if he was luxuriating in the feeling of having it there on him the way it was. "It is the drive I have, to keep myself from losing you. Even with that boy at your school, it was there. It will never go away. _Never_."

I slid over on the mattress and hugged him then, before I could make any sense out of what I was doing. I held my cheek against his shoulder, and we sat there for an incredibly long moment, with neither one of us so much as speaking a single word. We just bathed in the silence, and I lost myself in knowing he was content in my comfort.

It helped a lot to understand certain things. But it only made those niggling doubts in the back of my head grow even stronger.

"I will do terrible things, because of you," he whispered after what felt like years. He lifted his head to rest his chin on the top of mine, and he sighed wearily. "I already have committed some inexcusable things. My only crime, is that I love you. Can anybody _really_ fault me for that?"


	23. Trying to See Things Differently

**First, I own nothing to do with Twilight, and never will.**

**Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews. I love reading them each and every time. The negative (which I completely agree with, as I share that exact same view myself) and the positive. Thank you! Love you all, it means the world to me! Hope you're all well and happy xx**

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><p>"I need to use the bathroom."<p>

"Again?" He cast me a skeptical look. "But Bella, you just went hardly two hours ago."

It unnerved me that he knew the precise time since I'd last used the bathroom. Clearly, he had watched me and keeping track of me more thoroughly than I thought. It hardly should have surprised me, though. He liked to watch me, and I learned that very quickly, during our time spent together in the stuffy hotel room. He would sit there, either on the bed, hovering around me while I tried my very best to ignore his presence, or he would simply be standing around, dead-silent, with his hands clasped behind his back while he observed me doing whichever I did at the time, like he didn't know what to do with them or maybe it was to prevent himself from touching.

"Can I go use the bathroom?" I pressed angrily, when he didn't offer me any ounce of consent to go ahead.

It wasn't that I felt I had to ask him for permission; I was my own person, after all. I supposed, I just felt, it was better that way. It dawned onto me, that perhaps it was better to leave him the impression he was the one in control here. I didn't believe that, though. Not with what he revealed to me this morning. His heart was sick, and desperate, for my love. He feared losing me most. What he didn't know, was that it presented me a whole new outlook on everything; I was, in fact, the one in control here. I had all the power. He wanted me to love him again, so desperately. He wouldn't want to deprive me of anything, and I could use that to my advantage.

"Well, why didn't you go ahead and use it before we packed our things and locked up the room?"

"Because, I didn't realize I had to go, until now!"

He let me off on my own, much to my satisfaction, while he waited inside the car. I went into the reception area, and asked to use their toilet. The man behind the desk greeted me pleasantly, and I found it was so nice to have decent human interaction again. Edward was mostly human in some ways, but it still felt different to me. Something was lacking. The blood I had seen him drink twice since our time together, in the hotel room, made him alter in my eyes a bit. It made me fully comprehend just what he truly was, and how different we were. We worked differently. Everything with him, was more intense, and on a different page in contrast to me.

I used the bathroom, taking my time, because the longer I spent in there, it meant less time to dwell over my situation. When I got out, I looked outside the front window to where Edward's car was. He was sitting inside, the window halfway scrolled down. He was staring at me, but he ought to have known better than to think I wouldn't try to take advantage of the situation as much as possible. This was for Charlie.

"Thank you," I whispered to the man behind the reception desk, as evenly as I possibly could. He was roughly in his mid-forties or fifties, bald, with a greying moustache and a front tooth missing. "Please, do you mind doing something for me? It's very urgent." His eyebrows rose a fraction to his receding hairline; He caught onto my desperate tone of voice. I didn't have much time, though; I had to be quick, in order for Edward not to gather any suspicion. "I need you to contact a man for me. His name is Charlie Swan." My voice was hushed and speedy, as if I almost believed Edward would overhear from all the way out in his car, which was sort of pathetic. "I need you to tell him for me, that I'm fine, for now. Edward has me. Look in the phone book and find his number." I levelled a serious stare onto him, one I was hoping he would follow through on. "Contact him soon as I leave, and inform him of what I've just said to you. Please."

He nodded, wide-eyed, and bent down underneath the counter. I shot a hand out to stop him.

"Not yet," I whispered desperately. Then forced a smile. "After I leave. Please do it."

He nodded again, and I could feel him staring at me, most likely trying to make sense of my request, when I pushed through the doors and walked urgently to the side of Edward's car. He started the ignition, and reversed, meeting me halfway. He peered down at me through the window, and the look he gave me unsettled me deeply.

His eyes flared, and so did the nostrils. I had done something wrong in his books in talking to the man behind the reception desk; I just prayed to God he hadn't heard. Maybe he could, if he had acute vampire hearing? I didn't know much, after all.

"_Quickly_. Get inside the car."

I climbed in, pleased to be getting out and back onto the road, but cautious overall. He didn't talk to me as we sped out of there. There was a sense of urgency to his driving though, that worried me. I couldn't help wondering if he did know.

We drove a few blocks, until Edward suddenly pulled up into a private driveway and cut the ignition. I knew then, it wasn't good. He turned over in his seat to level a deadly serious stare on me.

I took in a shaky breath. _Here it goes._

"What were you doing with him?" he asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

"What? We were just talking," I lied, shrugging, looking straight ahead. It helped not to look at him.

"Talking about what exactly? What did he want to know?"

"Stop interrogating me like something is wrong, Edward," I snapped, unable to contain myself.

"I'm not. I'm just wondering why you were talking to him, like you were. You were smiling, and looked happy about something. I was wondering why."

"We were just talking. He asked where we were headed."

"And what did you tell him?" he pressed, infuriating me.

"I told him, I didn't know where we were heading to, Edward. Because really, I don't. You've kept me in the dark."

"How did he ask it? Suspiciously, or normally?"

"What?" Great. Now he was being paranoid.

"Should I turn back and kill him before he gets any sense?"

I didn't know whether he was intending to make a cruel joke or not.

"Now you're being sarcastic."

"Oh, _am __I_?" I felt him lean towards me over the console, and he grabbed the bottom of my chin. He tilted my head to meet him square in the eyes. There was doubtfulness in them. "Do I look like I'm being sarcastic, Bella? I could easily kill him, within a second. If this goes wrong... then I..." He trailed off meaningfully. I shuddered.

"He just... he sounded simply curious," I said after a frightened minute. "That's it, Edward. I'm sure he doesn't know anything about how you're keeping me against my will!"

"Good." He slipped his hand off my chin, and ran his fingers through my hair. "I hope you're right on that." He leaned back in his seat, perversely satisfied. Then, he said aloof, "And you didn't tell him anything at all?"

"No," I growled, short of a yell. "I _didn't_! All right?"

"All right, baby. Just checking."

"_Don't_ call me baby, Edward," I warned stiffly.

"Or else _what_?" There was curiosity lurking in his voice. "What will you do? Hit me? Why bother, I can't feel anything anyway."

But then, he smiled at me so I knew then everything was pushed aside. The whole conversation was over, and that pleased me like crazy. I breathed easier then, and relaxed into the seat. He never knew, and hopefully he wouldn't ever find out. I was clinging onto that hope in an iron grasp, because I knew, it was bound to make him angry if he had.

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><p>Another hotel room for the night.<p>

This one, was much smaller. And plain, with hardly anything inside it. A double bed. Plain wallpaper. One small desk beside the bed, with a lamp. Hotel rooms were quickly becoming my new home.

He locked the door again, soon as we entered. He was always locking it, like he couldn't bear the thought of making it easier on me to leave. He didn't need to worry, though; I wasn't intending on escaping anytime soon. At least, not yet. I had devised a sort of a plan in my head. I wouldn't try to make an escape, until the last, perfect moment. I wanted to appear as willing as possible, so that the moment I did make the attempt, it would be sudden, and catch him off-guard and unprepared. Waiting grew unbearable, though. Everytime he slipped outside to have a cigarette, and the door opened, I had to physically stop myself from attempting to rush at it and get out into the air.

He thought of everything beforehand, though. I realized just how meticulous he was, with everything.

In all the safety precautions he took so that I wouldn't try escape. The third time he went out of a cigarette, I peeked through the window at the side of the room, and discovered he was standing directly outside the door. He knew I had no hope in ever getting past him that way. He never spent too long away from me, neither. He was always there, watching me. Everywhere I went in the room, everything I did whether it be slipping into the bathroom to hide for several minutes, it resulted in me having an intrigued spectator in him. He refused to leave me in peace. If I spent what he believed was too long an amount in the bathroom, he would make his concern known in tapping on the opposite side of the door gently and enquiring into whether I was all right, or if I needed anything.

After a while, I resorted into giving him the silent treatment. I wondered if it would make any difference. I went to bed early, I tried to sleep tightly underneath the covers of the hotel bed, keeping most of me hidden.

It was no good, whether I outright refused to talk to him, or not. I learned nothing could ever really get him into a bad mood, whenever he was around me. I guessed then that my human ways excited him greatly. I learned that well and truly, when I woke just some time in the early hours of the night. The lamp on top of the beside drawer opposite my side of the bed was on, bathing the wall across from where I laid on the pillow into a shadowy, pale glow. At first, I didn't know where he was. Everything was so quiet, and still. I assumed he was lounging around on the space of the bed next to me, but turned out, I was wrong. A long, lean shadow came into my vision, and I discovered then that he was standing quietly cautious as a mouse, just observing me while I had slept. I found out then he really enjoyed watching me sleeping, it really amused him in some peculiar way.

He was staring down at me, and when I stirred sleepily onto my back, I gasped, disconcerted the instance I met his bright eyes while he stood there over me, observing me. He gave me a peaceful smile, like the image of me sleeping was so endearing to him. Though it was probably meant as something harmless, it creeped me out.

I tried not to fall back asleep after that, even though it was incredibly hard. I was different from him; I needed my sleep. And I was learning sleeping helped me recoup a lot, over a scary time like this. It meant I could forget where I was, and that I was being held in a hotel with him, if for several hours. But it was a dreadful experience to wake and realize, yet again, just where I was, and who I was being held with.

I also had tried to be strong, and tried to no longer cry over the situation. Sometimes, I would slip up, and I could feel wet, warm tears trickle down the sides of my cheeks. But luckily, for me, the tears were silent. I didn't sob, so it didn't give him any satisfaction in feeling the urge to console me in some way.

I didn't feel in the mood to fall asleep again, even though my body was telling me something vastly different. My eyes had trouble staying open, but I tried my very hardest in keeping them peeled wide open so that I could acknowledge him silently. I sat up, my body screaming against it, and rested my back against the headboard. He watched me then, with some surprise, and his hands shot behind his back yet again. He clearly was trying to control himself from touching me, and I took that in with some relief.

"Let's talk," I whispered through the silence, my voice embarrassingly slow and drugged out with sleep. I just wanted the still silence to end between us. I grew tired of noticing him staring at me.

"Okay." He was pleased by the effort I had in staying up, and I could tell as much. He strode over towards the untaken side of the bed, I heard him kick off his shoes, and then he climbed onto the mattress and sat near me, resting an elbow near my side. Even then, it was still far too close for comfort. I was almost dying to scramble away from him, off the bed. "Ask me a question. Anything you want."

"All right." I pondered for a moment, thinking hard. "Okay. How long have you been a vampire for?"

"One hundred and sixteen years," he answered, without a beats worth of hesitation whatsoever.

I tried to hide my shocked face, only I couldn't conceal it well, and he laughed over it.

"So, it's my turn," he reminded me. His face straightened seriously, as he peered down intently into my eyes. "Do you think you will ever be able to forgive me?"

"Another question," I prompted quickly.

He laughed again; a bit of a shocked one. "Why can't you answer that? It's the easiest question."

"No, it isn't," I disagreed strongly. "Because how can you put a definite answer on that? Ask me something else."

"All right, then." He concentrated for a moment, mulling his next question over. I felt strange lying halfway down the way I was, so I pushed all my effort into sitting up, and crossing my legs. Then, he spoke next, "Do you still love me?" His voice went low and whispery.

I pressed my forehead into my knees, refusing to look at him head-on. "Ask me another, please."

"Then, will you ever?"

"Next question," I repeated firmly.

"No." He just wouldn't let it go. "Is it ever possible for you to love me again?"

"Edward." My voice dropped with my despair. "Please. Move onto another less difficult question, please."

"Because I love you, it will _never _stop, and you already know that."

"Is that what a person does when they love somebody?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light. I still didn't dare look at him while I said; I rubbed my forehead against my kneecaps. "They steal them away, and hold them hostage, like this? Is this what love is to you? Is that how you show it?"

He ignored my question, and tried for another one of his own instead. "Do you honestly believe that I would ever hurt you, Bella?"

He was all for difficult questions. Ones that I didn't know the definite answer to.

"I'm not sure," I sighed. I plucked the material of my shirt anxiously at my stomach, just for some mindless activitity to stick to so I wouldn't have to look up. "In a way, I know you wouldn't. But at the same time, you've already hurt me."

"I've already hurt you?" He repeated, sounding outraged. "Are there any shackles on you? Are you tied up to the bed right now? Have I handcuffed you, or deprived you of anything, like food?"

"Well, maybe not physically, I guess." I shrugged. "But you hurt me in hurting my father. You've hurt me a lot emotionally."

"And perhaps you're right. Perhaps I have, but it's never been intentional. Hurting you, would be like hurting myself. _Excruciating_."

"You're hurting me now," I pointed out, a little breathless. "Every second you have me here, you're hurting me. I miss Charlie, and I really want to go home."

He didn't say anything about that; He just stared at me in a silence that felt cold.

"What would you do, if I said I didn't love you anymore, and that it would never change? That we could never go back to the way we once were, because the damage you've done is unforgivable?" I knew it would hurt him while I said it, which wasn't my intention at all. I just wondered how things would be.

He made a grunting noise from in the back of his throat, illustrating his distaste on the scenario I'd brought up. "Then I wouldn't know what to do," he muttered despairingly after several moments.

"What do you mean?" I asked, with some concern spilling over in my voice. "Why couldn't you just do whatever you did before we met?"

"Because, it isn't something you can forget that easily."

"Why can't you just try? Try to forget me, and go on as if we'd never met?"

"My memories a little different from yours, Bella. I can't push aside something so easily, especially not something that takes up my mind every single hour of the day." His face scrunched up in unease. "My head is like a clock that never ceases ticking, for twenty-four hours straight. Especially due to the fact I can't sleep. Everything, is mostly: 'Bella, Bella, Bella'. Even if I tried, I would be miserable. All I would see, is your face. And, even by that point, all I could do to stop the pain over your absence, would be to kill myself. It's a lose-lose situation."

"But couldn't you maybe, I don't know..." It was a struggle to keep my voice light. "Maybe, eventually... find somebody else to project all that on? Someone else who could take my place?"

"It isn't that simple, Bella," he said, irritatedly. "It's not like something you can find a replacement for. Like I said before, it's permanent. I can't see anyone else, I can't even... _think_ of anyone else." He lifted a hand and raked his fingers through his hair in agitation. "It'll always be _you_. This is a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, when we find our mate. It's unchangeable."

'Mate.' There goes that word again. "But what happens if the other person doesn't want to be your... mate? What if it isn't reciprocated?"

"Then, it's much the same. We go on living, as best as we possibly can. We'll just have to resort to living alone, and miserably, for the rest of our existence unless we off ourselves. I don't know of anyone who has successfully gotten past the hundred year mark without their significant other. So much as a week, it becomes intolerable."

Absently, I remembered that time in high school, where I had ignored him for the week. All the text messages he sent me, all the desperate looks, all the pleading to see me, to talk to me. Perhaps that was why? Because he couldn't endure being without me, as his... mate? It was a sort of twisted, strange thing to fathom about vampires then.

"So, you can't date anyone else? Let alone... love anyone else, or try to?" Though he had told me so much, it was still a bit hard to understand properly.

"No. We absolutely can't do that. It wouldn't work, regardless." He shot me a nervous look. "And hopefully, during the relationship they had cultivated together, the other mate wouldn't be so keen on inflicting them pain. Would you l_ike_ me to feel _constantly_ in pain?" He was throwing it all on me, and making me feel guilty. I could just tell.

"Maybe you would deserve it," I replied, mostly teasing, because him asking that was a bit silly. Of course, I wouldn't want _anyone _suffering due to me.

His forehead creased in worry. "Really?" he whispered, stunned. Obviously, he couldn't tell when something was a bit of a cruel joke being played onto him.

I stretched out underneath the covers onto my stomach, and reached over to pat his hand consolingly. "Of course not," I smiled. "That sounds really awful, though. All that you've just explained to me."

He placed his hands on each side of my skull, and leaned down over me. I couldn't even move my head, when it took me a second to process what he was doing, which was belatedly, since I was still half-asleep.

"I want to kiss you," he said, and he lifted my head and turned my face a fraction so his lips could meet mine fully. Kissing him felt wrong and right, all at the same time. I let him have his moment for half a second, before I got firm grasp on myself before the temptation hit, fast and hard. I had missed it, I realized then. I had missed both him kissing me, and me kissing him. But with a gasp, I pulled away.

"Edward, please don't. Just not... _now_."

I heard him draw a deep breath in. "Of course," he said quietly in disappointment. "Whatever you want. It's fine." And the way he said, the way he said, so understanding and complacent, it twisted my heart painfully. It made me finally realize, that he wasn't doing this to exactly hurt me at all. He wasn't trying to deliberately be malicious, he was just trying to make me... understand what he was going through, and if I could sympathize with him on some level. And, maybe I was starting to. I had acted wrong, yes. I had judged him falsely, because I was terrified of the unknown with him into what he was. He was being good to me, he was being understanding and patient, despite it being something I didn't deserve. But he had also done some things you couldn't turn your back on; In hurting Charlie. I didn't know how extensive it was for him, and I think that altogether made me feel compelled to be released so I could head on home and check and see for myself. I just need to know how Charlie was. That was it.

I sat up quickly on my knees, feeling an urgent need to explain. "It's just not... right. I can't right now." It was a weird betrayal thing I felt I would be doing to Charlie. And I found it was enough to stop me.


	24. The Monster You Expect

**First, I own nothing to do with Twilight, and never will.**

**I want to thank you all so much for your support and encouragement, you're all so truly amazing! As for this chapter, I apologize! I feel like I've let you all down, into where I've taken it. Feel free to let me know if you thought it was very bad! I'm sorry! I love you all and am so humbled by the support! Hopefully see you again next update if I haven't blown it for you all! xx Hope you're all well and happy! My love x**

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><p>I knew what tomorrow was. Tomorrow was my eighteenth birthday. I felt there was some type of significance in the date, something that Edward would want out of it. And the night before it arrived, everything felt different.<p>

I took my time in the small bathroom, lathering up my skin, washing my hair, steaming up all the mirrors. When I emerged from the hotel bathroom, I was instantly smacked in the center of my heart with a lethal dose of suspicion. It was the last thing I expected to see; Edward was silent, preoccupied with setting up a small fold-out table, which he had decorated. He had lit several candles, dimmed the lights around the room, and there was even a bottle of champagne sitting in a cooler. Edward couldn't possibly drink alcohol, let alone eat, like a normal regular human could. So, why the big production for dinner if it's only for one?

"Perfect timing," he said quietly, without looking up from the silverware he was setting out beside two empty plates. "Dinner is _almost_ ready."

I caught onto what he was wearing next; A light blue tuxedo, the men's blazer undone and a clean white button-up shirt peeking through, with loose slacks. His hair was combed back, neat, and slick at the sides. It appeared to me that he was getting ready for a special occasion of some sort. I just didn't know what it was. Immediately, I felt out-of-place in just the fluffy white bathrobe I was wearing.

"Oh," I breathed out in shock. "Just a minute, um. Let me quickly go change. I feel a bit awkward in a bathrobe, especially when you're so formally dressed."

He finally glanced up at me; His eyes twinkling. "No, it's fine. You're perfect just the way you are." I didn't know what to say in response to that, so I didn't bother saying anything. "I thought you would be hungry, so I decided to arrange a few things together for you."

"Oh, I am!" I grinned at him, feeling breathless. Everything was so extravagant. But with Edward, I think everything almost always was. He moved to slide open my chair for me; I sat, and then waited for him to do the same. "It's beautiful. Thank you!"

We sat in silence for several moments, Edward just staring meaningfully, hardly blinking one bit. Then, it dawned onto me he was waiting for me to start eating, since he couldn't eat the solid food himself. I picked up the fork on my side of the table, and reached over for a napkin.

I unfurled the napkin. Something fell into my lap; A light blue satin pouch. There was an engagement ring inside, a stone with a silver band. It was emerald, and the dim lights casting over it from the candles reflected it all sparkling and pretty. The ring clearly deserved to be worn, for such a beautiful thing, and it seemed Edward had picked the right girl he deemed fit and deserving to wear it. Too bad that girl wasn't truly me. At least, I felt I wasn't it.

My stomach lurched. "What is this? Is this what I... _think _it is?"

Wordlessly, he came towards me and slid down onto his knees in front of me. In the next, he took gentle hold of my left hand. He was almost trembling visibly in excitement. "I wanted to wait until after I got some food into you, but then I just couldn't resist. The timing is right as it is, everything is perfect. Forgive me if I'm a little too impatient, I've just been waiting very long for this moment. And, as you're already probably aware, tomorrow you turn eighteen."

"What moment is this?" My voice sounded small and scared, and I hated it. I think I already knew what was about to come.

"Marry me. Please, say you will. It's all I'm asking, all I'll ever ask from you." He was stroking my hand with his fingertips.

I tried to bite down on my tongue, but I couldn't help it. "Marry you? You make it seem as if it's something so unimportant, and not something you need to take into serious consideration to answer."

"I know, it's very sudden. I just couldn't help it, waiting is too hard for me." It was his turn to look a little abashed. "Just, please. Please say you will. Say you'll marry me. I won't ever deprive you of anything, you won't ever go without. We can start on our forever, we can do whatever you like. We can go travelling, you can even study. Anything you want, everything I have and am, its _yours_. All yours. But all you have to do, is say yes. We would be so happy together, like it should be. I would be so happy to call you mine. All you would have to do, is agree to be my wife and take my name. And also, eventually, I could bring you over to this life, so that we'll always have each other where you won't ever, ever, be able to leave me."

I was flabbergasted.

"Edward, I... I'm very grateful and honoured that you're asking me this. Believe me, I am," I started slowly and anxiously. His face turned eager underneath my gaze. "But... this isn't something I can answer. Not yet, anyhow. Marriage is a... serious committment. I would have some... preconditions before I gave you a serious answer to this."

"Preconditions?" He was very surprised by that.

"Yes, well. One of them, the first and only really, would be to... see my father first. To make sure he's fine. You see, that's why I've acted towards you the way I have. I'm scared for Charlie. I just wanted to know he is safe and well, after what happened with your friends. That's it." He was instantly opposed to that condition; Though he never verbally said it, I could read as much into the expression on his face. His mouth twisted, his face contorting. "Then, I will give myself to you, in every possible way. We can even leave straight after I see Charlie, and we can go get married. Then we can start anew, in a way, as husband and wife. We'll try move on from everything that has happened, and we can get married soon as you'd like. But I need you to honour my precondition first."

Something in my words irked him; He shied away from me, got to his feet, and turned his back on me. He was breathing harshly, his head hanging low towards the ground, and a moan tore through his teeth. He was despondent over something.

Something was wrong. It was something I said. Something I did, and I couldn't tell what.

"Edward?" I whispered nervously, talking to his rigid shoulders and the back of his head. His hands were wrung halfway behind his back, his fingers curled tightly like he was scooping something up in between them. "What did I do?" I reached out and ran my thumbnail along the side of his hand gently. "What did I say to upset you?"

"I suppose you think I'm that dumb, don't you?" There was something odd about his voice. There was a sharp, angry edge to it. "Don't you think I know you need witnesses to get officially married, Bella?"

"Edward, please." I hated the quavering in my voice. "What is wrong here?"

"I know what will happen if I take you back to your father's. You mightn't think I do, but I do. I know things, and I know when you're trying to trick me. You get me to agree to take you back, then you'll turn on me and say you never want to see me again. You'll desert me for good so that you can stay with your father. I know how this works!"

"No," I protested numbly. "I promise you, it won't happen like that. Once I see my father is safe, we can leave together. Just the pair of us, and I will be your wife." Sure, I could see why such an idea would percolate through his brain, and it wasn't entirely wrong.

He turned his head very slowly and met my eyes. "Tell me, it won't happen like that then. Show me."

I shook my head slowly, at a loss. "How am I meant to... show you that?"

"Just tell me, if you can't show me." His voice was nothing more than a broken whisper, like it was very imperative for me to illustrate it to him in some magical way that could have the ability to quell his doubts for good. I just didn't know where to even start.

"Then you have to show me how I can do that," I whispered, very slowly. I took his hand gently, and held it in mine. "Tell me how so we can both figure this out together."

"Just show me you know its true," he said, his voice turning too loud and strangled. "Show me you know that we belong. Tell me you know its right!"

I began to shake. "But I... I don't belong. I'm undeserving. You deserve someone who... someone not at all like me."

"Right. So here it is. It's all about prejudice, isn't it?" He was yelling. Even though I felt all dried up, I felt I was going to start crying. "You think we don't belong together, because we're not the same. You think we're not the same, because I am vampire and you are human? You believe because of that, I'm incapable of feeling anything... that I'm some monster who's going to kill you and only eventually will suck the life out of you, as well as the blood? Is that it? All due to some preconceived notions?"

"No, not at all," I cried, startled when my voice came out a low and desperate growl. "Please, I'm just worried about my father! When I get to see him, I'll do whatever you want! Please, whatever to make you happy, I swear!"

"You believe you're so much better than me because you're human, don't you?" He muttered, his voice low and intense. He was clinging onto my hand in his so tight, it still wouldn't prevent the trembling all over. "You have the preconceived notion inside your head, something you've jumped to the conclusion of ever since I first revealed my true self to you! Can't you think logically for _one_ minute? All this time we've spent together... and you constantly assume I'm going to hurt you! All that time and you assume I just want to kill you due to what I am! Well, if you see me as a monster due to what I am, then perhaps I ought to show you what a monster like me is capable of, shouldn't I?"

"I'm sorry!" Despairingly, I sank down onto my knees heavily, begging, pleading. "I'm so sorry, Edward! I didn't mean to hurt you! I'm sorry!"

"Oh, you're sorry?" His hand landed on my shoulder, pressing down and backwards. "Well, no. Too late. I'll show you what I'm capable of, because it's what you expect of me, isn't it?" He blinked down at me, disconcertingly unfeeling. "If I'm such a monster to you, then... I suppose I better start acting like it, shouldn't I?" His hands moved in front of him to unlatch the buckle of his belt, and then in another harsh movement, he slid the leather out of the loops.

"Wait," I whimpered, hating the fear in my voice. "_Please_... don't."

I stared up at him, tears running down my face. I didn't care anymore. I didn't care if I let him see me cry. Along with it, I had expected just the sight of it to calm him down and create him to act more responsibly. To my horror, it didn't. I saw stark reluctance flicker in his eyes when he grabbed me by the wrists and yanked me up onto the arches of my knees. And then he wrapped the belt around my wrists, made sure they were secure and tightly held, looked down at me, and sucked in his cheeks defiantly.

"What comes next, Bella?" he sighed out in uneasiness. Though he seemed as if he was playing it up, his eyes were crazy as hell. There was something... absent in them. No light, all hard and cold for me. "What does the monster do now?"

"You're not... a monster," I said, so softly and weakly, I wasn't sure whether he was able to hear me coherently or not. "This isn't you. I... I know this now." Weariness soaked through every pore within. Though my eyes were filling up, I think I was about ready to surrender now, ready to submit to whatever he was about to do to me physically to enhance his point. "So, please. I'm sorry, deep down inside I... I don't believe you're bad. I've never... ever really believed that." I touched his hand, brought his knuckles down to my lips, but let it drop when he didn't respond in any way whatsoever.

He raised his hand, and I closed my eyes very tightly.

Here it comes. Here it all comes. There was no use in crying anymore.

He placed his hand lightly on the top of my scalp, fingers stretched and eagerly brushing through my hair, and I felt paralyzed, not truly suspecting what would be about to come next. My hands were bound, so I couldn't fight. I couldn't do anything, but sit there. I could use my voice, and my legs, yes. But now, I was perfectly content with lying there still on my knees.

"Tell me you know that we belong together!" he screamed, out of nowhere. "Tell me you're not like all those other shallow girls! The ones I tried to date... and they... they couldn't accept me! Please, just tell me you'll accept me for what I am! Especially as my mate, tell me!"

"I... I accept you," I said helplessly. "Of course, I do!_ I do_, please!"

"You're just like the others, aren't you?" he hissed coldly through his teeth. "You're like the rest. How could you be so cold? Would you really cut me off due to what I am, due to something that was beyond my control? You really are like the others, aren't you? Well, here's the monster for you. It's what you're expecting anyway, isn't it?"

And then, he seized me by the hair, his fingers snarling, curling... _twisting_. I screamed.


	25. Edward

**Hello, all you wonderful, lovely encouraging people!**

**I want to thank you all so much! It truly moves me in an inspiring and staggering way, to read all your reviews! I love reading them and knowing the shock, or horror some of you have felt over the situation. I decided to go with something a bit different, I may have failed, but if so, I'm hoping you will forgive me. Fanfiction's about unleashing whatever our minds conjure up after all, so I let my mind go while attempting to write this one. I really hope it doesn't come as badly written, or a complete disappointment, as I truly admire and love you guys to the moon, you're all sweet and nice and I'd hate to let you down!**

**I just wanted to get into Edward's head (and hopefully, give you all a bit of insight into how he felt throughout certain events in the story- and into what happens next). The ending is a bit vague, but it will be more vivid and descriptive next chapter with Bella. **

**Feel free to let me know your thoughts. Hate? Like? You can even tell me you hate me, if you feel it necessary! x**

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><p><strong>EDWARD:<strong>

My father presented me this journal as an outlet twenty years ago. Funny thing is, I found it just this morning. Carlisle was, in fact, right- as usual. A mental outlet is just what I need.

Something extraordinary happened to me today. Can you believe it? On my lunch break after my morning shift in the office, I decided to take a ride downtown, just to view the sights. The road was slick and wet with rain, I was going slower than usual, I couldn't risk crashing my beloved car. Well, I went down one long straight street, it seemed random at the time, but thinking back to it, I think there was something almost there in the air, pulling me down that path of road like metal to a magnet. Guess what I saw? Or, more aptly, _who_ I saw walking down the street. I saw _her_ today. I had seen her previously in some of Alice's visions, yes, but nothing was quite as vivid and bountiful as seeing her in the flesh before my very own eyes. It was certainly a heart-in-mouth moment, I almost crashed my car, I was that shaken up over it.

I decided the timing wasn't right, though. It wasn't the appropriate time; I was all worked up from an altercation with a client this morning, but I have high hopes that if I take the same route tomorrow morning, I _will_ see her again.

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><p>She's so naïve, so innocent, it takes my breath away. I have a feeling I can say anything and do anything, and she won't get suspicious. I made up some nonsense about why my circulation wasn't running properly, and she soaked it up without question. It makes things a heck of a lot easier. This time will be different, I can tell. I just have this feeling inside; I can feel it in my bones.<p>

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><p>Everything went incredibly bad tonight. Bad, bad, <em>bad.<em> Everything went wrong. It wasn't supposed to happen, but it did.

Bella and I had gone to a party tonight with that ridiculous boy from her school. I felt really ill once we arrived there. Everything was pouring out; all these thoughts. Some about Bella in her dress. The Michael boy thought some pretty crude things about her. Real improper, and perverted. He had a vivid imagination, too, though, at the time, I couldn't judge whether it was purely imagination or not. I got an image of them standing around at what resembled the locker bay at her school. There were no students around, no teachers, just them two. And then he thought about kissing her, it seemed so real, the way he presented the image inside his head. So, it got me slightly paranoid. Well, all right. More than slightly.

I felt terrible when I got a gashing blow into his nose and the side of his temple due to it. It was just wrong, and disgusting, the way he thought of my Bella like that. It disgusted me, turned my stomach. I truly felt on the verge of doing something dangerous to him, probably not as dangerous as what was running through my mind when it happened. I literally wanted to murder him, but luckily, I had on myself a decent amount of control. Murdering a school kid in front of over a hundred students probably wouldn't look good for me. Nor for Bella in the way she thought of me. But turned out, hitting him was equal to murdering him in her reasoning.

It really wasn't something I was intending to happen, it's probably been the most miserable day of my existence. And Bella, poor Bella, I was wrong when I assumed I could very nearly say and do anything, and she'll forgive me, she won't get suspicious. It didn't turn out that way at all, it turned out awfully different from I had expected. Everything was so dreadful. I had blood on my hands, everywhere. Bella was shaken up real bad, real pale in the face, and the scream she made, I don't think I'll ever forget the sound of it. Well, we stood there at the party, everything was so horrible and silent, silent as an apocalyptic night. She wouldn't even look at me, no less. I felt more and more ashamed of myself by the minute, especially when the cops and ambulance arrived. But, hey? What can I possibly say?

This is who I am. And while I may be filled with aching regrets, you can't change time and alter it. I did what I did tonight. It made me feel sick and trembling when her father arrived to pick her up, she didn't want my offer for a ride home. She just doesn't want to talk to me. I texted her tonight, and I got no response. I texted her again, and still, no response. It was the worst feeling in the world.

So, afterwards, I'm sitting here at home in the dark writing in this journal. I can't be bothered turning on the lights, no less- I feel too terrible, so full of shame. And that look on her face, something has altered in regards to me. But it wasn't my fault, it's just the way I am, this drive I have inside of me to protect her. No excuses for it, I'm trying not to feel sorry for myself. It's a bit hard though, when the awareness that I've hurt her so deeply over my actions is screaming at me every second of the hour. It makes it intolerable because I know she's upset, since she won't respond to my messages. What can I say? I was a different me tonight. For some time, I've been sitting here in the dark, knowing full well she despises me in some sense over the violence I displayed tonight at the party. But what can I possibly say? I can't change time.

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><p>I'm feeling pretty angry. I've sent her at least over ten texts, and its been over a week, and STILL no response from her whatsoever. In some ways, I feel confused. In a sense, I just don't know what I did wrong. In another, I get it completely.<p>

I've probably scared her away. She probably feels I'm such a freak- and I am, in the logical aspect of things.

I couldn't work the whole day, I had to take the day off early. Because my mind wouldn't absorb all the facts it had to. It just kept at it, replaying what happened that night at the party, and how terrible Bella looked at me the way she had. It kept on coming back, especially when I was talking to a client. I would be there right in the moment, next second, there I would be, standing there, asking her for some reassurance because I don't quite understand how she's feeling or whether we're on the same page or not, and then, somehow... the chaos hits the fan. The way I acted, in punching the boy at her school, the way he fell back into a few students, then the way he came at me and landed a pretty forceful blow that had no affect on me whatsoever. I can't help but wonder what she thinks of what happened, of what she thinks of me. It is unfair how the days still pass, how the suns comes up the next morning. Because I would rather sit in darkness forever.

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><p>I went to her school today, I just couldn't resist. Maybe I shouldn't have, because it only made me so mad. She completely disregarded me, like we never happened, and kept on walking past my car. I kind of wish I hadn't ever made the decision to see her today, it only makes me feel even more infuriated. When I watched her walk straight past my car, I felt I could have done anything. I could have screamed at her at the top of my lungs, got down on my knees begging for her forgiveness, only -luckily for me- I had more dignity than that. It just annoys me, though.<p>

I need to see her, perhaps for my own selfish reasons. I need to be around her again, but only she clearly doesn't want that.

Still, every time she ignores me, it makes me acknowledge something from deep inside.

Everything I am... all that I am... my composure, my patience, is_ slipping_.

* * *

><p>Saw her again today, parked right across the street. More progress today, as she stared at me. For a moment there, I thought she had finally at true last found it within herself to forgive me. I was wrong.<p>

It's like I mean nothing to her, when she means absolutely everything to me. She's given me reason to live, she's my everything. The highlight of my days, was seeing her and being around her, always. And yet she's maliciously taken it away.

I don't understand what's wrong with her, I don't understand how it works for her and not for me. It's almost as if there is something inside of me... absent, gone missing. Some significant piece that holds me all together, a loose bolt has come out that was fixed in when I was around her. I feel whole around her, and yet now, I can't have that, because she's taken herself away from me.

I didn't believe it was supposed to be this way. Why is it so easy for her, so simple and, for me, such torture? Perhaps it is something I will never understand, though. After all, there is only so little Carlisle explained to me. I don't feel right in asking him about it, though. It's too degrading. I suppose I'll try have to figure it out on my own.

* * *

><p>She didn't reply to another text. It's left me feeling so incredibly angry. I could do anything in my desperation, anything at this moment in time is possible. I could even possibly kill her, grab her and never let go, assert my place to her. I could almost imagine how it would go now:<p>

"Bella, this is the way it is. You can't ignore me forever." Haha. Inside joke is: Forever is there for me. One hundred years for her. I'll be sticking around way longer, she would have began to crack eventually by then surely). Still, imagining that, asserting my position, holding control over her, it gave me the most lingering sense of satisfaction building within. All I did later was because of that thought.

* * *

><p>She was stupid. Of course, not really stupid. Just idiotic and plain naive, I've decided. How can she assume she'll get rid of me so easily? I almost laugh whenever I think about it, because I know that it's truly what she believes. If only she knew what I truly was, who I truly am... what she is to me. I feel like I hate her in a sense, which isn't really true at all. I couldn't possibly hate her just... love and resent over how she keeps on ignoring me. I also feel now she has certain similarities in regards to the others which I hate(who were not my mate, which is another reason why I can't comprehend how its so easy for her). The others shunned me away, called me disgusting, and we all know how bad that turned out for them (Well, between you and me anyway, Private Journal O'Mine). I well and truly lost control back then. It was beyond preventing. I thought love was about accepting someone, their flaws and all? I sure could do that for others. But they couldn't for me. I wasn't enough for them.<p>

Being with them in full totality, was more than enough for me. Never for them. All they automatically see is blood drinking and disgusting violence, appalling horror-show notions. I think it's the tale of Dracula that spurred on that false judgement though. I'm not a monster, at least I try not to be. I try to mingle with humans, no matter how awkward it is when I know very well I'm putting up pretense to act among them, to blend and fit in. I'm basically still human, I have all the components a normal human being has. I.e; flesh, an (nonfunctioning) heart. While it mightn't work effectively, it's _still _there, stuck frozen inside me.

Oddly enough, every day that goes on by where she ignores me, I feel my... humanity is slipping in a sense. It's a frightening sensation. Everyday it reduces into anger, and enragement. She doesn't even know what I truly am, and already she's so quick to shun me away.

* * *

><p>Everything worked out according to plan. I did it. I finally did it. I asserted my position, I made it very clear I wasn't going to disappear anytime soon, and that everything has to return to the way it once was for us. I may have overreacted and been a far bit too forceful, but by now I feel my sanity is long gone. Its teetering on the edge of the cliff (if there even is one) and the only one in power who can wring me back, is her.<p>

Let's hope this works out. If it doesn't, then I don't know what I'll do. I've realized, at this point, that I'm capable of anything.

* * *

><p><em>Success.<em>

Bella inside my apartment right as I write (in bathroom doing heaven knows what). It appears she liked the my theatrical attempt in wooing her; Flowers, candle-lit room. This may very well be the beautiful big moment I've been waiting for with her all along. Even as I write this, I can't think straight. My nerves are going haywire over what's impending very, _very_ soon. In a few minutes in fact. I'll write again soon (I can hear Bella opening my bathroom drawers).

* * *

><p>I screwed up, I failed.<p>

Turns out, she_ is_ just like the others. The human girls. Exactly like Irina, and T (who was luckily spared. Cannot say the same for the former, the bloody mishap, however.)

I feel more angry than I've ever been in my entire century. Like lethally angry. Like I don't know what I'll do, but I feel practically capable of anything right now. I thought writing in here would help, it hasn't. It just makes brewing over it that much difficult to let go. I don't know what to do. I have no one to turn to (At least, not that I know of). My brains gone a bit hazy, I can't think coherently right now.

I've made the decision. I just can't get what we did out of my mind, even if it wasn't the same for her as for me. I felt whole, everything was warm, especially being inside her the way I was (in body). I want to feel it again, and again, and yet I can't. She's taken herself away- _again_. She ran out in her disgust. I'm now back to the same feelings as before, that I resent her for being so judgmental and alike the others, and yet still my heart swells up with being and love whenever I think of that look on her face when I made her feel it.

It was there. I made her feel it. The glorious heaven, while she lay there with her hair splayed out on the pillow, flushed and beatific. We move slow and gentle, me inside her, soft and wet and amazingly warm it warmed my entire being. It made her feel it. So, why isn't that enough?

And when I watched her run out all because of me, I knew then it would never be the same. I would never feel the same. I will never love the same for another, not even though she's gone, she's repelled. In between everything I felt, the turmoil, the wanting within to stop her, to do something terrible to assert my position, I knew it. It was the absolute lightbulb moment for me, something I was ultimately repressing.

I will never love another- even if it kills me. Not physically, but mentally. Always mentally along with her absence and disgust.

There is only Bella forever. Having her, finally having every part of her, only made it all resurface and gave me a clear understanding. There is no other. No other in sight, or mind. There is just Bella. Bella. Inside Bella, warm and willing. Outside Bella, appalled and frightened and scampering down along the hallway, like some old horror movie where the woman reels in disgust at the disgraceful, haunted monster who lives and breathes everything her.

Though she reacted much alike the others all those years ago, it made it all clear. Everything was vivid, everything comprehensible to me. She knows what I really am now. It appalls her, sickens her. And yet, that love is still there. It still runs bone-deep. It won't ever go away. Not ever. No amount of displays on her end of hatred or fear will ever change it. It exists, and will resume existing until my very last days.

That is something she probably won't ever understand.

But there are ways. There are ways, if I be real pragmatic about it. You cannot truly understand, unless you walk and be in someone else's footsteps. And it can be done. It _will_ be done.

* * *

><p>I've made the ultimate decision, one that will risk everything. I don't care, though. Risking it all- for her- it is necessary. All necessary. Jail-time for doing it, whatever. You will find that when you've lived as long as I have, another thirty odd years isn't troublesome or deterring in the slightest.<p>

It all doesn't matter to me. The realistic outcome of doing such a thing is inconsequential for me. I just need for her to understand. I know it will help more if she completely understands what I am going through (and that is something I'm not quite sure of the mechanics of, I've never asked Carlisle about it, after all. So many things I've never enquired about into being what I am). But there is time for that later. What I need now, is patience.

All good things come to those who wait. I can wait a little longer, certainly. We can try it the simplistic way; If I be around her long enough and try to explain by mouth, hopefully she will understand enough then. I only need her to give me a long enough moment to fully explain it so she comprehends. It'll be hard- I've never been good with words. Hopefully, they will be sufficient enough.

If not, oh well. There's always the last, desperate measure I can take. Last resort, of course.

* * *

><p>It's strange how you can find out, in your most despaired moments, just what you're truly capable of. And I was capable of a whole lot when it comes to her, it occurred to me.<p>

Some might say I am lucky for what I am. It presents me everything I need, it renders other unlike me powerless. And she was much the same. She was such putty in my hands. It didn't turn out the way I'd planned- I had called up a few distance acquaintances who took the matter a little too far for my liking- but it still worked regardless. All in all, a good late afternoons work, I believe. Still, I would have prefered it transpired differently. But I had got her, and that was all that mattered to me.

In fact, she sits in the seat next to me. She's unconscious, due to James, but I can hear her still breathing, loud and clear. Her heart too. Thump, thump. I used to hear her heart beating when talking to her, I almost lost my head each and every time. There was just something so endearing about the sound, it just made me happy, hearing it come from her. It was beautiful, music. But it also presented itself a few curses; When I never really knew her all that well at first, on our first date, I would hear it, distracting me, throughout our conversations, and I felt so unsure of what to do, I'd pretend to concentrate and all. And then, embarrassingly, it felt like my mouth was watering, and I'd feel all self-conscious over it. It probably wasn't ever the case, though. Just trick of the mind, because she never looked disturbed at all whenever she looked at my face while it happened. I just wanted to laugh incredulously every time I was around her, my whole body would feel red over it, even though you probably couldn't tell so. I just love it, the sound of her heart going at it, thump, thump. So adorable, it just makes me laugh with glee every time, I swear.

Anyway, there is a lump on the side of her cheek- swollen, from the impact of James's rough and uncivilized ways- but it'll heal good in no time, I'm positive. It doesn't sit with me well at all, though, just knowing he did that to her. But really, the past is in the past, there was nothing I could do about it now. I suppose I could overlook that for the time being- I've got her all to myself again, I've caught her, so easily, like an exotic bird you just want to keep as a beloved and prized pet. Another precaution I had to regretfully take, was using one of my old work ties to strap her hands up real good and tight in case she decided to fight again (Which she did at her father's home, very admiringly, despite what we all are).

I guess we'll see how it all progresses later once she wakes. Cross my fingers, she takes it well. Because really, I wasn't doing this to be nasty in any way whatsoever. It wasn't out of malicious intentions, or anything horrible like that. I just wanted her to understand. Sympathize with me, in a way.

Got a real shock when she woke. She swore at me, she said a real filthy word that I never believed could come for her. Then again, she was a never-ending surprise. Frankly, that's partly why I loved her so much. Never minded though. In fact, I don't think there is anything she could ever do to upset me or anger me. Aside from taking herself away from me again, _of course_.

* * *

><p>Well, really. I did speak too soon. There was in fact something she could do that would anger me and cause me to treat her infernally. I proposed to her tonight. I asked her to marry me. It's what I think I've always wanted, what I've dreamed of since we started dating. I used to picture it a lot, how it would be with her, though of course, a little differently. She would be the same as I. We would be the same. I even had my mother's ring out and everything. She completely and utterly ruined it, it pained me. She feigned everything; She agreed to it, under some silly precondition she invented about seeing her father beforehand. I knew what she truly meant by that; She was only doing it under pretense, agreeing just so that once I did oblige her in her wish, she could turn on me. She would have probably laughed in my face. "Ha ha. You are so blind. I never honestly wanted it, I only wanted to trick you. And you fell for it so easily, because I'm your only weakness." Only, luckily, I knew she was pretending. I had studied her face and grown to know the art behind her looks properly enough. I could tell whenever she was lying, or when she was being true. This was another one of those times.<p>

At first, I believed her, I got the false hope she was being true. But then I heard the way her voice cracked, and saw the way she quickly averted her eyes, and I knew then. Oh, yes. I knew.

She could be cunning when she wanted to be.

I reacted out of impulse, because she was probably internally sneering inside over it. But then when I blubbered out a few hurtful things- as I find I usually do, in the heat of the moment, when left feeling betrayed- she actually fell to her knees, like she was pleading with me to calm down because I was frightening her. It was meant to be well-intended, sincerely. I only wanted to show her what she believed, I was only pretending to be what she expected and most likely viewed me as.

Only things continued to go terribly wrong from there.

I did it, just then. I took the last final measure, the last leap; the drastic one. She struggled and fought so hard, it was splendid. For a human her weight and size, plus with her hands bound by my belt, she fought me off very convincingly. Now I have to go wash my hands, and my face. Everything is all sticky, stringy... wet. I keep getting it everywhere; On my shirt, on the page I'm writing on to you now, Journal. I'm excited, though. I'm so incredibly excited and ecstatic for what's to unfold. As for now, I'll have to sit and wait.

Besides I believe listening to her heart while it happens is _the best_ part.

**I know you'll probably hate me, but I've always been intrigued by psychotic, obsessed people in films (their actions, etc). I tried to base Edward around that. I understand if its quite disturbing hehe. Hopefully you'll still want more? Love you all x**


	26. The End

**First, I own nothing to do with Twilight.**

**I want to thank you all so much for your amazing support! I can honestly say, it really drove me to complete this story! I had this ending in my head for a while now- I'm not sure what you'll think. But I wanted to take a dark and foreboding route. I'm not sure if it'll satisfy you or not (probably not). But I hope you all know I love you all, and I'm so enternally humbled by the response I've received! You're all amazing, so thank you all for inspiring me the way you did!**

**Feel free to hate me. Everything (freedom of speech) is entirely welcome. **

**Thank you all so much, I love you all! x**

* * *

><p>Fever. Burning. <em>Everything<em>, my bones, my _body_... was burning. Bleeding. I couldn't imagine anything else comparable to the pain I was feeling then. Not even broken bones, or being shot, or stabbed with a sharp knife.

_Oh God, please don't let me die._

_Edward don't let me die. Please._

_At least, let me see Charlie first. Just let me have my wish of seeing Charlie first, before I die. I wanted him to be happy, and to know he was safe, before my end._

_Please oh please Edward. I don't want to die. I didn't feel ready to die yet._

_Still so much to do. So much to... say._

* * *

><p><em>EPOV:<em>

It all happened unexpectedly. I'd never done it before, I wasn't even certain if it was supposed to go this way at all.

I couldn't remember the way it went, even for myself. Perhaps that is what happened when we switched lives? Carlisle, my father, never enlightened me on such truths. He never told me much, in fact. Like what happened to the human body while the change took place. I couldn't remember how it felt to change, no less. But I could experience it, and see it firsthand with my eyes myself, with her.

I thought it would be more better for her, to experience the change on the hotel bed. I didn't want her uncomfortable in anyway, so I propped up some pillows, gathered her up in my arms- where she felt far too sticky with blood, and sweaty- and placed her carefully onto the bed with her head positioned upright on the pillow.

She started screaming and muttering words in a low, hoarse voice then, much unlike her usual voice. "Please, you have to get me to a doctor right this instance. I'm... everything... it's burning."

Of course, I couldn't actually take her to a doctor. What on earth would they possibly think? No doubt, her case would be unlike anything they had ever witnessed before. I tried to calm her down a bit, I told her, the worst will be over in forty-eight hours (I was only guessing, of course). She lay there on the bed quietly for a little while, twitching, she was sweating so badly her whole face was glistening and her hair stuck matted to her forehead. Never had anything looked so painful, I felt almost as if I was undergoing the transformation along with her. She started crying, her mouth twisted in anguish, only it wasn't the regular crying I had heard from her before. More like silent tears, that ran down her blistering cheeks, glossing over her eyes.

Soon, she started twitching again compulsively, so I tried to hold her down. It was no good. It got her crying again, but loudly this time around.

"Charlie," she started breathing out. "Please." Her breaths came out quick and fast, like she had only just finished a six-meter marathon.

"What of Charlie?" I asked, thinking I'd misunderstood her. I couldn't quite understand what she was saying through all the heavy breathing.

"Charlie... I need to..." And she kept on like that, for nearly over half an hour. Calling her father's name, and insisting that she needed to do something. Wasn't quite sure what, though.

"What will you do if I die?" she asked, a while later. She would calm down marginally, then start all over again.

"You're not going to die," I hushed her. "Don't be ridiculous."

"But I feel like I am," she insisted breathlessly. "I know I am. I feel like... I feel like death."

So much as the thought of her even dying frightened me. I really didn't want to talk about it. "Let's just talk about something else, all right?" I tried, but she wouldn't give up that easily.

"I'm dying!"

"No, you're not." Not in that way, anyhow.

"Would this all be over? Would you be able to move on then, if your mate died?"

"Probably not, if you died I would most likely soon follow. You're not dying anyway."

"Would you go on to find someone else?"

"Don't be ridiculous," I said again. I really wished she would stop talking like that. She was being absurd. "As I explained before, there is no one else for me. There can't be anyone else."

"Then I wish, I wish you would." It took her a while to get that out. She was panting way too rapidly, there were at least over five gaps before she completed the sentence fully.

"Please, let's talk about something else."

"I'm dying!" She kept saying it, over and over. And it probably felt like it, too.

"You'll be back to normal in a day, or so. The pain will subside."

"It won't," she replied, sounding strong on that. "It won't! It won't! Make it stop!"

"Bella, I can't." I almost laughed because, really, what could I do? "I can't do anything to make it stop. You'll just have to live with the pain for a little longer."

"You'll stay with me, until it's over?" She clutched onto my shoulder, as firmly as she could, which wasn't firm at all. Her strength was all gone, her hold was feeble, and weak.

"I will."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise." And I meant it. "I will, of course I will."

Everything was silent for a little while, aside from her little grunts and bed-twitches. And then, later, she said, "It's okay, I forgive you."

I hadn't known what to say then. She was probably too far gone to even comprehend just what she was saying. I hadn't known I had done anything to be forgiven for, though. I was just a man who couldn't stand losing the girl he loved most. Where is the fault in that?

* * *

><p>Her breathing had grown very faint, she was quiet with no more pained murmurs, and I assumed then, that the change had finally happened. The worst was over and done with. I felt very sorry for her next early morning, I felt so guilty for all the pain she had endured due to me, all the fear and stressing over whether she was truly dying or not. But it was inevitable with such a transformation, surely she could forgive me and overlook that momentary bit of pain. I sat for a while at the side of the bed, observing her while she lay there, listening to her breathing (which was much too soft, and her heart wasn't beating at all). It was a normal occurence for us, though; Our hearts ceased to work, they remained still. I had only gathered it was much the same for her.<p>

Her face was pallid, and blotchy, and her eyes were wide open. She was staring off vacantly at the hotel room ceiling, but even then I assumed everything was right as rain. She had old dried blood smeared over her nightgown and on her patchy skin (I had bitten her several times, just to be certain I was doing it right as a precaution; Neck, wrist. The soft fleshy part of her left breast, her thigh). She looked hot in her nightgown- which I also presumed was usual, as the change happened- so when I rolled her carefully onto her side to attempt to peel it off her skin, she was stiff and limp as anything. When I lifted up each of her arms to pull off the sleeves, her arms felt heavy. When I looked her over without the nightgown on once I managed to extricate it fully off her body, I felt unbearably bad for her, because clearly I had went overboard in biting her to spread the venom into her system. There was dried blood everywhere on her, it was an awful mess.

I supposed I ought to have been more gentle, more careful with her. But my emotions had well and truly overtaken me that night; I was angry over everything, her lies, her pretense on wanting to marry me, and the ludicrous precondition she had invented. One could hardly blame me for being a little too eager.

I gathered some toilet-paper, rolled it around my hand, and dampened it with cold water. I decided to clean her up a bit, so I took the job very seriously and attentively so that I wouldn't hurt her any further. I dabbed at the bites, wiped them clean of the day-old blood, but viewing the imprinted teeth marks that were my own didn't settle with me so well. I was praying she would heal very soon so it wouldn't be something else she could find to incriminate me with. Along with the bites, there was a horrible amount of bruises; Purple, blue, yellows. I just couldn't stop feeling sorry for her, it had me in a good, old foul and depressed mood over what I had put her through without much ounce of thought beforehand.

After about six in the morning, the sun was seeping through the curtains, and I opened up a window and let some fresh air in. Then, I decided to go out for a much-needed cigarette while I waited. My body was running on high, all tense and strung-out for the moment she awakened. I was feeling incredibly nervous, I couldn't deny it. Or hide it, no less. Several people who had stayed over at the hotel the night before, were leaving early and packing their things into their cars. One of them, a young woman, stared at me while I smoked, and I couldn't help paranoidly wondering whether she had heard all the fuss Bella made the night before. Her looking at me got me all hot and bothered, though. No doubt, I looked guilty, as if I had done something wrong the night before.

When I got back inside the room, I made sure I relocked the door. With the dim morning sunlight hitting Bella's skin the way it was, it made her appear all the more ghastly in physical appearance. Suddenly, there was a lot more white to her skin than I had first noticed, a lot more yellow and purple. I couldn't hear her breathing at all. Not to mention the familiarity of her thumping heart any longer.

All to be expected, certainly.

I sat by her, I slipped up onto the bed along with her body, and sat real close. It was all so hauntingly tragic, the way she looked. She no longer looked like that bright and carefree girl I had first met that day, wet in the rain. No, her skin looked particularly dull, her hair limp and lifeless on her scalp. Her eyes were dark shine less, depthless pits that stared off at something side-long. By laying close to her, I think I realized then, that things had definitely taken a turn for the worst. Her mouth was hanging halfway open, her lips chapped and dry, with no color like they previously had been. I used to love her lips; All pink, and girly, and pretty. Only now, they were like somebody else's and not Bella's, all pale and flaky.

I raised a hand to her forehead and I felt her, and she felt surprisingly cold underneath my fingertips. Not at all like somebody who had just underwent the change- though, I was unexperienced, of course. I wasn't quite sure what to expect. Was she meant to look so awful and battered, and feel like a cold, lifeless corpse? It just didn't seem right at all.

I got to thinking then, maybe I had bitten her too much? I had bitten her roughly around eight or nine times (at the time, I couldn't count, because she wouldn't lay still, she was always restless and thrashing about). There had been a lot of blood. On my mouth, on my clothes, everywhere. I had assumed that was normal, though. It _was_ normal, right?

I whispered her name several times, softly, quietly, hoping to get a reaction out of her.

_Come back to me, darling. You can come back to me now, please. Oh please._

It never came. When I rolled carefully on top of her, pressed my lips into the shape of hers, still I received no response. When I laid my ear carefully, always carefully, against her breasts, I couldn't hear anything at all. Not a single beat, or a flutter of the heart.

I decided to wait a little longer. Perhaps I was being far too impatient? Perhaps it took a longer measure of time than that?

So, I sat around, and waited. I didn't think I had left her side for no more than two minutes.

When nightfall slipped in again, she was much the same in state as before. No response. Not even when I shook her gently. By that time, I was truly worried. I felt sick inside. My stomach plunged to the floor. It dawned onto me then, when I held my fingers over her lips, and felt no whispered breaths.

She was dead. I had killed her. I had killed her. Dead.

I got on top of her, closed her eyelids down, and pulled her mouth shut. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know how to repair it. Realistically, I couldn't. What's done is done, what's gone is passed.

I had failed. I had failed in what I had initially wanted of her. I had tried so hard to make things right again, in order to keep her, for always and forever. I tried too hard, had held on too strong, and yet my persistance in keeping her has been the very thing that killed her, in the end.

I couldn't believe it. Not so easily, anyhow.

I stared at her, for what seemed years, a lifetime, dumb-founded. For a while there, I had convinced myself it was all a torturous trick. One that God was playing on me. I was God's Fool for the day. How could I have killed her? Surely, I couldn't have. I loved her, I loved her so, so much, I couldn't stand it, half of the time. Why would I kill her? I never wanted that for her. I would _never_ want that for her. Not ever in a thousand years.

It had gone wrong. All terribly wrong. A mistake.

It wasn't meant to happen this way. We were meant to be forever. All the possibilities I had for us, all the experiences and sights we would share together, all that... was crumbled. _Destroyed_. All due to me.

I watched her as she laid there, in silence. I touched her again, I touched her everywhere, and I still couldn't believe it was true. God was playing a trick on me, somebody had to be playing a cruel and hurtful deceit on me. Her body, everywhere, so cold... so so cold and limp, it never ceased to fail giving me a shock. I couldn't understand it at all; Just nearly twelve hours ago she was talking to me, screaming, and thrashing around, like the change was happening. And now this. Now, she was just lifeless and cold. It didn't make any sense. It was beyond comprehending.

Something so suddenly broke inside of me, something happened, I lost my head. I crawled on top of her, and held her body close, and the frail frame of her sunk it so harshly, it made something crack and break within. Before I knew it, I was shaking from my head to my toes, I was kissing her all over, and telling her not leave me, demanding her to swear on it- certain promises of course she could never hear and return. One moment she was in my arms and in the next, she was replaced by the headboard and there was a loud crash, and then there was even more damage and curtains were torn to shreds off the hooks and the hotel room was just complete and utter turmoil and wreckage, exactly like how I felt inside. _All but her._

After a while, the uncontrollable trembling stopped, and I managed to calm myself down. All I had to calm myself was the sight of her, and along with it, I couldn't help but feeling it was the end. I couldn't live without her and yet, it was all my fault, I had done this to her.

As I stared at her, it was then the idea came to me.

All I would have to do, is kill myself now. I can't live without her, I couldn't possibly stand it. What reason is there in life, when the reason is gone? There could be no forever for us any longer. All the dreams I had conjured, all the pleasant ones, were gone and ended. This was the only way. It had to be this way.

It would reminiscent to her favorite book, Romeo & Juliet. Two people, completely and wholly in love, that were destined to never be. The odds were always against them. It would be sheer torture to go on without her. I just had to find a way to the end. Others could think whichever they like, my father. He could judge it the way he wanted, but he couldn't possibly feel disgraced in the fact that I had killed a human.

It was a plan. A definite solution. There wouldn't be any pain over her absence. She would be waiting for me on the other side, ready to greet me with open arms.

A suicide pact for two lovers who weren't destined to ever have their forever.

However, things never quite work out the way you had set your mind onto them happening.

As it turned out, there was a slight variance to the plan.

I laid there with Bella in my arms, on the hotel bed, and I had decided to distract myself for at least a little while with some mindless television. I watched the screen, hardly seeing anything, everything going entirely past me, aside from the feeling of holding Bella in my arms, while she rested, so peaceful, so serene.

I was talking to her, just when oddly enough, an actress flitted across the screen promoting her new television series. It was a complete lightbulb moment. There was a way about her, that reminded me of Bella. She looked the exact same, she could almost be fit to be Bella's twin, and she was extremely popular around the globe for her acting. Her mannerisms, everything, was so utterly Bella. Only she was far more opinionated, and strong. As it was, she didn't touch me in the same way Isabella did, of course, but there was certainly something about her. I was still undecided on following through on my plans of suicide with Bella, but seeing this girl an exact replica of Bella almost made me reconsider. Perhaps it wouldn't be so hard to live a little bit longer, to try forever on this actress perhaps? Perhaps she would be different, even though she was a spitting image of Bella? Besides, I would be far more prepared this time. I had learned well from my experience with Bella; I would reveal my true self first, rather than save the monstrous surprise until later. And, even if it had the same outcome as with Bella, I had learned now what I was truly capable of when I did not get my way.

Suddenly, it appeared I had something else to live for. Just for a little longer, just to test the waters and see.

This will be a fascinating experiment.

**EDIT: Thanks for your reviews and feedback. I understand I've probably disappointed you all (I'm adding one more chapter). What I wanted to illustrate was that Edward isn't an innocent person, he has killed a few girls before, is very fickle. As for Bella, is she really dead? I'll just say she's playing dead, she'll come back (maybe not in front of Edward, but...). I apologize if you think it was horrible, I didn't mean for it to seem rushed. I just wanted to go for a different outtake on things. Hopfully next (last) chapter, it will be resolved more to your liking.**


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